Temptation
by JodieLove
Summary: Something about him intrigued her. But she knew Draco Malfoy well enough to know that he was fire. And while her mind told her to back away, her heart told her to jump in. All she knew was that if she wasn't careful, she would get burned. DMHG - I'm back
1. Prologue: Flies to Honey

**TEMPTATION**

**Prologue: Flies to Honey**

She may have been slightly bored.

No, actually, she _was _bored. Bored out of her mind.

Hermione blew the bangs away from her face with a sigh. She watched as they fell back into place over her eyes, before she blew again.

The blend of voices around her could only be described as a muffled buzzing in her ears. It wasn't her fault. Really. It was just so..monotonous. When was she really going to need to remember when so and so discovered this spell or that spell? When was she ever going to need to know _any _of it? She blew again, listening to the rough tunnelling sound of the air rushing in front of her. And her professor's voice was just perfect as a lullaby. She really _was _sorry for not paying attention—truly!— but come on. She should probably figure out what was happening right now, she assumed, raising her hand slowly to tuck the loose honey brown strands behind her ears.

She leaned back, hearing her seat squeak in protest, and let the voices consume her once again. All of a sudden, as if—ironically—magic had commanded it, the sounds came rushing back to her loud and clear. She almost flinched.

"—time. Now class, I'm going to hand back the essays you handed in a few classes ago. They were…fairly well done," Professor Bins droned, adding a little "congratulations" at the end, that rather lacked its congratulatory meaning because it sounded more like his lectures than anything. Actually, anything the ghost said sounded like a lecture, Hermione thought. She scratched an itch on her arm, and fought the urge to yawn.

She could hear the girls behind her. Hermione wasn't a mean person. At all. But it was hard not to judge people sometimes. Albeit, she kept it pretty quiet most of the time. But sometimes, like right now, she had the strongest urge to just turn around and tell the two to stop talking. She really didn't need to hear their life stories at the moment.

She shook her head, and focused on Parvati and Lavender talking rapidly in front of her, listening in briefly to the conversation instead. The girls really weren't as shallow and silly as people perceived, Hermione mused. Okay, so maybe they weren't Hermione's _favourites, _not even close. But there were some things that Hermione through were quite admirable about them. Her eyes travelled to her lap as she thought, counting the points with her fingers.

Well, there was that time in fourth year, when Hagrid did that stupid experiment to figure out if Blast-Ended Skrewts hibernated. It was a disaster, but Lavender had stayed to help, and ended up getting burned in the process.

And Parvati really wasn't that bad either…

Hermione's train of thought was interrupted when she heard the high pitch giggle, unmistakably Lavenders. She barely looked up in time to see Lavender send a quick glance at Ron, before she giggled again.

Hermione almost rolled her eyes. _Right, _then there were all those things she _didn't _find quite so admirable about those two.

She didn't want to know whether Ron saw or not, nor did she care. Just the memory of catching Ron and Lavender snogging while on patrol last year effectively meant that her brain simply refused to think of the two of them at the same time. Disgusting.

She tuned out of that conversation and moved on. Professor Bins was handing back papers, floating through the desks in each row as he went along, seemingly oblivious to the loud talking around him.

Was he doing it on purpose? Ignoring the class because he was fed up?

The professor floated by behind Hermione, and from the proximity, Hermione could here is merry humming.

Guess not, she figured, chuckling to herself. Maybe it was a sort of blessing to be able to space out into your own world like that, she allowed. Then, she wouldn't have to deal with things like…Daphne flashing her mirror in Hermione eyes while fixing her hair. Hermione grimaced and turned away.

Or Ron and Lavender flirting.

She grimaced again, and turned the other direction.

Or…Draco Malfoy, she thought, as her eyes fell upon him.

What was _with _the guy anyways? She wasn't even looking at him. Then his pale blonde hair just sort of stood out. Really? Pale blonde? Doesn't blonde hair usually darken as the person grows?

But then again, Malfoy was just a big baby. Hermione smirked.

The careless expression carried on as she watched Malfoy command a ball of paper to hit poor Harper's head at the front of the class.

Poor guy. She should probably say something, as head girl and all, but all she could do was commend Draco for such good control with a wand hidden under a table.

She could make out Harper's protests at the front, and watched as the boy turned and glared at the Slytherin side of the classroom.

He would never find Malfoy though. Not that she would ever say it, but poor Harper was simply no match for the guy.

Malfoy and his goons—there was no better word to describe them—laughed.

Hermione felt like a silent observer in a jungle of people. After six years of school with him, she had to admit it. He was smart, she would give him that. There really wasn't any other compliment to give him though. And as for Crabbe and Goyle, she thought, as she watched the two, she really couldn't say the same.

"Hermione…Earth to Hermione…"

Hermione swivelled her head around to face Ron. Apparently, he was done with flirting. For now. Her stomach rolled over.

"Finally," he exhaled, rolling his eyes. "What were you doing?" He looked to where she had been staring off to. Was it her fault she liked to daydream? "Were you _looking _at Malfoy?" He spat the name in disgust.

"God forbid I _look _at someone," she snapped back. She had almost said Malfoy instead of someone, but realized how incriminating that sounded. No, best not deal with that with someone like Ron.

"Oh cut it Hermione, you know what I meant," Ron waved his hand airily.

"Yeah, yeah Ron, she knows. Please don't get her started on—" Harry answered for her, joining into the conversation from Ron's other side.

"Why would I even _look_ at him like that huh? I just don't get it. Why do girls like him so much? I can't even blame the guy for lying to them or deceiving them because he doesn't," Hermione began, her thoughts pouring out as she leaned towards them.

"Here we go again," Ron muttered to Harry.

"Who's fault is that?" Harry whispered back.

"Not that he doesn't lie of course. But really, he doesn't lie about lying and that's the thing. Everyone _knows _he's a bastard. So why to girls flock to him like flies to honey."

"I think its bees to honey?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh no, at least bees have some willpower. Flies on the other hand.."

"Are you comparing girls…to flies?" Ron asked.

Hermione huffed. "That's not the point. The point is that—"

"_We _get it Hermione. That's honestly been the third time since we came back three weeks ago that you've ranted about that."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I really don't get it you know." She shrugged.

"_We _know." Ron sighed as he looked at the paper the professor just handed to him. "Bullocks," he muttered.

"Miss Granger," the professor acknowledged as she handed her her paper. She smiled and nodded, as if she had been the great student that had been paying attention all class as guilt flooded her. She honestly didn't even know why she felt guilty. It's not as if anyone else had been paying any more attention than her. Still.

She looked at the paper blankly for a moment. What was it again? Right, the essay.

There was no doubt about it now. She was going to absolutely fail this class.

"So Hermione, how'd you do?" Harry took his paper with a nod.

She turned and glared at him. Then, in all fairness, glared at Ron as well.

"Er…I don't think she did too well," Ron hissed.

"Remember the day when you _dragged _me out to the pitch to watch your _stupid _Quidditch tryouts Ronald Bilius Weasley." Harry stifled a laugh. "You too Harry Potter!"

"Oh..um…say, you weren't working on your paper that day were you?" Ron asked, slightly terrified.

"MAYBE," she hissed angrily. She flipped the paper over again, and her anger flared.

"We're sorry Hermione!" Harry quickly put in.

"Yeah, it's just one paper!" Ron added.

"One paper? I will fail this class now!" Hermione hissed.

"What's wrong? Guess perfect little Granger didn't get perfect this time huh?"

Hermione could recognize that voice anywhere. And not because of its sensual low intonation. No, because it was just so damn irritable.

She turned her head, and there he was, body turned to her, smirking. Was that the only thing he could do? Smirk?

She wanted to groan.

"Malfoy," she instead replied, her tone sickly sweet, "I didn't know you cared."

Odd, because a moment ago, the class was full of chattering voices.

"Don't worry your pretty little heart about it. I don't."

God she wanted to claw his eyes out sometimes. Not that she was a violent person. Is was more an expression.

"Thank the lord," she returned, with a smirk.

She turned around in her seat as the smirk fell away to the annoyance written on her face.

Draco eyebrows rose. Nobody got the last word in like that to him. He sneered. Really, there was only one person in the world who could get him worked up in two sentences. Not even Potter or Weasley could manage that. Only Granger.

"It's just that," he said aloud, watching Hermione's back, "I found this essay _so _easy. I guess as head boy, I would."

Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to say that she was head girl too. She wanted to say that it was just this once that he beat her. She wanted to protest. But no, she was not going to respond. She was not going to respond.

She closed her eyes. Dumbledore needed a hobby, she thought bitterly, distracting herself. He probably thought it was fun to watch the Griffyndors and Slytherins like this everyday. Stupid Headmaster.

She twisted around, about to respond, before she bit her lip again. She really shouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Once he saw that she wasn't going to respond, he laughed. He actually _laughed. _He had the _nerve _to laugh at her! She growled.

She had never really heard him laugh before. She'd always thought that him laughing would be weird—out of place, so to speak.

Her thoughts slowly strayed again as she considered the boy—Draco Malfoy.

He was who he was. It was that simple. There were no lies. No false preconceptions. No hiding behind masks. He was Draco Malfoy. Cold. Spiteful. Angry. Smart. And so so intriguing.

Hermione knew that. She did.

She knitted her brows together. But he was temptation. Tantalizing.

She watched. Not with love, god no. Or even want. No, she watched with curiosity. With wonder.

What was with him?

They lock eyes, and for a moment, the world stopped. "You know Granger, you can't get everything in life." His harsh slate eyes slash across her hardened brown ones. And then it was over. It was almost like a tease. A taunt. She looked away first. And he turned around.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was an enigma. There was no doubt about it.

She let her eyes wander back towards him. And then drift away.

She simply wasn't one of those flies.

"Wait Harry," she heard Ron whisper, as she fell out of her thoughts. "Isn't it bees to honey?"

Harry sighed. "We went over that already."

Hermiones frustrations fell away as she laughed. "Sure Ron. Bees to honey." She stood up and shuffled her books together, packing away her bottle of ink, glad that class was finally over.

**A/N: WAR IS OVER IN THIS STORY. (sorry, but not in this story people:))**

**So here we go. Just a little insight on her thoughts:). I'm not sure how long this story will be (somewhere above 20 and below 35 chapters I'm thinking) and I'm not sure about the tone of the story anymore. We'll just see how it goes. **

**Anyways, I hope you like it so far:)**

**I'm afraid I won't be able to post as fast as I used to in prevous stories, maybe a chap a week, because I took some AP courses this year and like..WOW. It's no joke. **

**Look out next week for the next chapter and tell me what you think about it! REALLY!**


	2. A Stone Cold Smile

**A Stone Cold Smile**

God, he hated history of magic. He hated the teacher. He hated the subject. He hated the class. He flung his bag onto the table and tossed his "A History of Magic" textbook in. Grabbing the strap, he brought it over his shoulder in one quick pull and headed into the aisle.

He looked ahead to see Granger throw her head back and laugh, slowly grabbing her own textbook. He smirked, remembering their brief argument. One for Draco, zero for her.

He heard her laugh again, and god forbid, she snorted! She _actually _snorted! He sneered and turned around.

"Could you _pigs _move any faster?" He directed the question towards Crabbe and Goyle. They fumbled with their bags clumsily and nodded, their heads bobbing.

Draco held back a snort of his own, in disgust though. "Move," he growled to the people in front of him as he merged into the line of people filing out.

He pushed his way into the line as his housemates let him through and nodded in thanks. Not that he would ever actually _say _the word.

His stomach growled loudly, and he heard that laugh again, now beside him as he had ascended a few steps. "What's so funny Granger?"

She grabbed her back off her desk while shrugging. "Nothing," she said, turning to him.

"Can't a person's stomach growl?" he retorted, as the seventh years filed around him to exit.

"Can't a person laugh?" She smiled at him smugly and slipped in front of him, without waiting for an answer.

Draco Malfoy stood there for a moment before continuing his way up as well. It was official. He didn't just hate the class. He hated the _people_ in the class.

Anyone could guess who—there was the-boy-who-lived-to-defeat-the-dark-lord Potter. He didn't have anyways truly against the guy. Really. He was even thankful to him for ridding the world of Voldemort. But six years of grudges never just disappear. Draco figured they were just never meant to be friends.

And then there was Weasley. And that was enough said.

And Granger. She infuriated him to no end, maybe because she really was the only one who could. She knew it too, which made him hate her even more.

He sighed and tugged at his tie, loosening it from its chokehold on his neck. His stomach called out again, louder than before. At least it was lunch now. And he had a whole Gryffindor-less day ahead of him. Double charms with the Hufflepuffs after, and then he was free for the day.

He was feeling a little better already.

"Thought you weren't going to show. I was just about to leave," the dark skinned boy commented as he stepped off the wall opposite the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. They had met recently, last year actually, and had developed a quick friendship. Blaise Zabini was almost the opposite of Draco, yet at the same time, similar. They understood each other. And Draco figured it was about time he found a friend with some intellect.

"Zabini," he acknowledged with a friendly smirk, "I _always _show. Just give me a minute." He slipped into the common room and into his old room, dropping off his bag on the empty bed. He grabbed a small box off the counter and pocketed it.

"You don't even live here anymore," Blaise said, as he followed Draco in.

"Ever heard of privacy?" Draco returned, but didn't make a move to instruct Blaise to leave.

The other boy shrugged.

"Yeah well, it's quicker in between classes to leave my stuff here rather than all the way up the seventh floor. What with the damn school changing every minute, it takes me a quarter of an hour just to get up there. Besides, this rooms empty anyways," Draco turned around after removing his cloak and throwing it on the bed as well."Let's go."

"Are we still pulling the prank?"

Draco led the way out the common room and into the hall. "Yes. After break today. Granger's going to _hate _it."

As they walked towards the great hall, the conversation continued. "Why would Granger hate it more than any other Gryffindor?"

"Because she won't know who did it," Draco said, narrowing his eyes.

"And it'd bug her to no end," Blaise finished. "Prank within a prank. Brilliant."

Draco nodded ahead. "Shush," he murmured, as they passed a group of fourth years Slytherins.

"What're you doing here?" one of the boy's snarled. Draco and Blaise paused to see what was happening. As if urged by the presence of the two older boys, the younger ones continued.

"Yeah," another one urged.

"I…I was just trying to find Marcus," Draco heard a girl say. Marcus?

"You're not a Slytherin, are you?" the same boy asked.

"N-no."

"Then, I'm going to ask you again," he demanded, "what are you doing here?"

"I just…"

They boys shifted positions, and Draco and Blaise glimpsed the girl in the yellow and black tie, nearly in tears.

Draco had had enough. "Hey," Draco said. "Now, I'm asking _you, _what do you think you're doing?"

The fourth years turned to the two, cowering. "Um...we were just…telling her that she shouldn't be here?" a braver one answered.

"Pardon me?" Draco demanded.

"We were telling her she should get out of here," he spoke louder.

"Or in other words, ganging up on a girl?"

"N-no sir."

"Really? Cause that wasn't what I saw."

The boys didn't answer.

"What did you see Blaise?"

"The same thing you saw Draco."

Draco turned to them, awaiting a response. Finally, he continued.

"From now on, you're not going to bother her visiting Marcus right?"

"Y-yes sir," they stuttered in unison.

"Do I need to flash my pretty head boy badge at you?"

"No."

Draco paused, and Blaise held back a chuckle.

"—Sir," the boy added quickly, realizing his mistake.

"And do I need to remind you who we are?"

"N-no sir."

Draco folded his arms and nodded, tilting his head down the hall in a quick motion. The boys nodded understandingly. "We'll be going now."

The group of younger Slytherins scurried off, leaving the Hufflepuff girl with Draco and Blaise. She didn't know what to do, and her bottom lip quivered.

Blaise smiled pleasantly at her in reassurance. "Weren't you going to find Marcus?"

The girl nodded quickly.

"Well go on then," Blaise said, gesturing down the hall the other way with his hands.

"Oh. Oh, thank you," the girl gushed, wasting no head in rushing away.

Without looking back, Draco and Blaise continued on silently. Finally, Draco chuckled. "Well that was sort of fun."

"Did you see them squirm?" Blaise laughed, remembering.

"I don't know how they even got in our house."

"Well we know they have no courage, scampering away like rats."

"They looked like they were going to piss themselves."

"They deserved it."

"They pick on defenceless girls."

"You pick on Granger," Blaise pointed out accurately.

"She's hardly defenceless," Draco reasoned. "She has claws. And fangs," he added as an afterthought.

"In other words, she picks on you." Blaise laughed openly.

"Right." Draco rolled his eyes. "Claws and fangs. Remember that."

Blaise was still chuckling as he took his seat at the Slytherin table as. Draco stayed at the entrance of the great hall, scanning his table for a particular someone. Spotting her head of red hair, he sauntered over.

Placing a hand on her lower back, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. She turned to him, and tilted her head upwards to give him a kiss. "Hey, what's up," she murmured, as she pulled away with a smile.

"Hey," he said in a low voice. He frowned. "Can we talk outside for a moment?"

She nodded and smiled to her friend. Then he helped her out of her seat, before striding out ahead of her.

Hermione, from her seat at the table, noticed this. She shook her head. There goes another one, she thought sullenly, before returning to her lunch.

Back with Draco, they made it into one of the deserted halls of the castle by then. "Alicia," he spoke suddenly.

She looked up at him with questioning blue eyes. "Yes?"

"I don't know how to say this," Draco began, a practiced speech for him.

"Then don't," she murmured huskily with a smile. She pressed him against the wall, and lightly grabbed his collar with one hand. She placed her lips over his, and hungrily kissed him.

He allowed himself a moment before pulling his head away, turning to the side. He wasn't _that _cruel.

"Look," he said, removing her hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small green jewellery box. "Think of this as a goodbye gift."

He held it out for her, and when she didn't take it, he gently eased it into her hands.

"You—you're _kidding _right?"

"I'm sorry," Draco said automatically. He _was _sorry in fact. Sorry to have had to end it. But it was simply time to move on.

"You're saying it's over?" she asked shakily, taking a step back, tears blurring her vision.

He didn't reply.

"It's not over right Draco?" she tried. She leaned forwards and attempted to kiss him again, but he avoided her easily.

"W-why?"

He still didn't reply.

"WHY?!" she all but screamed at him, pounding her fists into his chest. He grabbed her wrists.

"It's time to move on," he said simply, if not a little coldly.

Alicia didn't say anything but her hands fell limp. Draco released his hold on her and assumed that it was his cue to leave.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. These were the few situations he had long ago decided the word sorry was okay to use. He began to walk away.

"No," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. "No you're not."

Draco shook his head. He didn't know whether he was or not, but he knew that he had given her a large ruby necklace, her favourite gem. She could be happy with that.

And with that thought in mind, Draco walked back into the great hall alone.

Hermione continued telling her story to Ginny as she caught Draco sauntering back in. But it wasn't that fact that bothered her. It was that he was alone, which meant her suspicions were correct. She leaned in towards Ginny.

"There's another one," she murmured, shaking her head.

"Alicia?" Ginny whispered back, looking around. "They were so good together. I don't think so."

Hermione smiled uneasily. "You'll see." She forked a piece of broccoli and chewed it thoughtfully as she let the conversation pass and resumed listening to Ginny.

Draco returned to his seat beside Blaise, with Crabbe on his other side. He rubbed his hands together as he filled his plate with the mouth-watering food. "Finally lunch," he murmured, as his stomach loudly agreed.

"So how'd it go?" Blaise asked as he took a sip of milk, his own plate cleared. He reached over to grab a tart for dessert.

"How'd what go?" Crabbe asked through a mouthful of food.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Could you please swallow first Crabbe?" he demanded. "And fine I suppose. Same as usual." He had half a mind to continue, but decided against it, opting for his chicken instead. The loud cheerful tone of the clashing of voices lifted Draco's mood slightly. Or maybe it was the food, he couldn't quite tell. He licked his lips, and reached for another piece.

Blaise fingered the tart, turning it in circles in front of him before setting it down. "Everything ready for tonight?"

Draco nodded with a mouthful of food. He swallowed. "We can start right after I ask Snape for pitch time for tryouts after my double charms. You have free period after break too right?"

Blaise nodded.

Draco scanned the Gryffindor table. "They won't know what hit them."

"Aren't you scared this would jeopardize your position?"

"It's just a little between-house fun. And besides, who could find out?"

Draco took a sip of pumpkin juice and smiled. Oh yes, his day was a lot better now.

**A/N: So I know, not a lot is happening as of yet. Bear with me people. We must build of the plotline and the situation and stuff right? **

**So essentially here, I just wanted to show a cold but not heartless Draco.**

**How do you like it?**

**KEEP IN MIND, I WILL ALWAYS ALLLWAYYSSSS BE WILLING TO DELETE AND REDO CHAPTERS so comment!**

**REVIEWS?:) yayyy. Warm my heart!**


	3. Watch Your Back

**Watch Your Back**

Hermioine drummed her fingers on the table in annoyance, her patience wearing thinner with every passing moment. She looked around the great hall with her eyebrows knit together. It was half full—at least. Sure, Hermione was typically an early person, but she was _never _the first in her house for breakfast. Where were Harry and Ron? For that matter, where was the whole Gryffindor house?

She twisted around and glared suspiciously at the Slytherin table. She wouldn't put it past them to kidnap the whole house, although they should honestly realize that Dumbledore would _probably _notice. She sighed, and forced herself to remove her hand. The drumming was getting to her head. She turned back around, picking up her glass of milk along the way. She shouldn't be so ridiculous. The Slytherins probably had nothing to do with it.

And as she finished that thought and took a sip of her drink, she noticed the unnatural silence that had engulfed the usually busy room. She looked up, to see all the other students staring towards the door, mouths agape.

She turned as well, and promptly spit out her drink. She had to admit, her first thought upon seeing them was aliens had invaded Hogwarts. She quickly picked up a towel and dabbed her mouth dry, her eyes never leaving the steady flow of green faced students filing in solemnly, eyes cast downward. Slowly, they took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Hermione watched, wide eyed, as she caught Harry and Ron furiously glaring to the left of them as they took a seat on either side of her.

It was probably not the most appropriate thing to think, but Hermione had to admit that they looked absolutely silly, and thanks the lord that she wasn't green as well.

She gulped. Mystery solved, she supposed. "Er..hey guys."

"What's the sentence for murder? How many years in Azkaban?"

Hermione grimaced. "It's honestly not that bad."

At precisely that moment, the last of the victims had entered the great hall, and the silence soon turned into utter laughter, led of course, by the Slytherins.

"My face is green. My hair is green. My skin is green. My clothes are green."

"It _could _have been pink?" she shrugged, biting back a laugh.

"Blimney, I don't know which is worse. I'm puke green. I look like I've just been thrown up."

"Well…" Hermione said, twisting her hands.

"Don't bother Hermione," Harry reassured. "Just be glad you don't sleep in the dorm anymore, or this could be you too."

Hermione leaned forwards, and looked down the table into the sea of green faces, picking angrily at their food. Not a single Gryffindor was spared. She frowned.

"How did they do it?" she murmured to herself, casting a curious glance towards the Slytherin table. She narrowed her eyes, and immediately sought out Draco. However, if snickering was the indication that he did it, then the whole table would have had to be held accountable too. Which was an entire possibility in itself.

She sighed in frustration.

"Hermione!"

She whipped around.

"You think you could maybe try and help us? I'd rather not have to walk around school all day like this, as if walking in here wasn't embarrassing enough."

Hermione nodded immediately and drew out her wand, biting her lip as she thought of counterspells to whatever charm or spell had been placed on them.

"There's no doubt it was the Slytherins."

"No doubt at all," Ron agreed, as they continued their conversation while Hermione attempted various spells.

"Ow, ow ow! Hermione, that one hurt. It's like its scrubbing my skin."

"Well it is," she muttered, shaking her head. "It's not painted on then I suppose."

"I could have told you that!" Ron said disbelievingly.

"Well I had to make sure!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "You just don't trust what I say."

Harry ignored his friend. "Maybe it's a spell?" He pulled out his own wand and pointed it at Ron.

"Don't point that bloody thing at me—"

"Prior Incantato," Harry commanded.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, and cowered behind his hands. He didn't open his eyes until he heard Hermione sigh. "No, no Harry, It can't just be a spell. They couldn't have had time to simply cast a spell on every single person in the room."

Harry nodded.

"Hey Potter, looking a little _green _today."

Ron fumed. "Can't come up with anything better than _that _Malfoy. I'm almost disappointed."

"No need for me to humiliate you today Weasley, you've apparently got that covered," Malfoy shouted back, his friends snickering beside him.

Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm. "Just let it be," she said.

"But.." Ron protested, pointing a finger at him. "But he started it!"

"Come on Ron, that's what he wants," Harry agreed.

Ron glared at the Draco from across the room. "I bet it was him."

"Probably."

"What if I tried this?" Hermione murmured to herself, completely ignoring her friends. She lifted her wand. "Revelio!"

A red light shot out of Hermione's wand, and hit Ron squarely in the chest.

"Oof," he coughed. "What was that?!" He rubbed his chest with his hand.

"Modification of a spell," Hermione answered, her mind already on another spell.

"You cast a _modified _spell at me?!" Ron shouted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, be a man Ron. It wasn't going to hurt you anyways."

Ron continued muttering, but Hermione already moved on, turning around in her seat to again look at the Slytherin table. When did they have the time to do this? At night? Surely not. Somebody would have noticed. And she doubted something this big could have been cast indirectly from their own dorms.

She caught Draco lifting an eyebrow at her, challenging her. She brought her hand up under her chin, before noticing an odd tinge to her hand.

But before she could fully analyze that, the bell rung loudly.

"Bloody hell, now I'll be looking like this all day. Double potions and then Double DADA, the Slytherins will get a kick out of this."

"Come on Ron, let's just go. Best not to add a detention onto this for being late alright? I still have to do the quidditch tryouts after this and I'd rather not start it off with cancelling it."

"I suppose. We have to get them back Harry."

"We don't know for sure it was them…" Harry suggested, rather inclined not to start a war with another house this early in the year.

"We're puke green. Who else would do that?"

Harry shrugged. "Come on, let's hurry."

As they took their seats in class, Professor Snape grimaced. "Early Halloween is it? What are all you fools doing?"

"As if we all want to be green," one of the Gryffindor girls muttered angrily.

"10 points from Gryffindor for talking back," he began, clasping his hands behind his back.

"But you asked a question!" she protested.

Ron shook his head. "She should just quit while she's ahead," he murmured to Harry and Hermione quietly.

"Another 10 points!" Snape ordered. "Any more?"

She hung her head.

"See," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Snape slowly sauntered over to the front of the room. "It seems, " he began, unfolding his arms, "that Mr. Weasley has something to say to the class. Isn't that right Mr. Weasley."

Ron gulped. "Well..well sir. I was just wondering…er..um..would you happen to know the counterspell to whatever it is that's been cast on us by…" he glared at his classmates, the Slytherins, "people."

Snape tilted his head up and looked down on the boy. "I would hardly involve myself in your petty disputes."

"More like you're not capable of figuring it out," Hermione muttered to Harry, suppressing a giggle. Draco leaned forwards from his seat behind them.

"And can _you _figure it out Granger?"

"Mr. Malfoy. Would you like to speak out too?" Snape asked, the boys whisper catching his attention.

Draco cleared his throat. "No sir."

Snape nodded briefly before turning away, and as he did, Hermione sent Draco a scathing look. "I know you did it," she hissed. "And I'm going to get you back."

"I doubt it Granger," Draco smirked, "but you can keep trying. More the fun for me to watch."

"Why don't you 'watch' you back instead?"

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione swivelled around. "Sorry Professor Snape?"

"I asked you for the answer to this question."

Hermione watched as Harry hurriedly scribbled a number on her paper. "Oh um, 1984 sir?"

Snape sneered. "Fine."

Hermione sighed and scribbled a quick thank you to Harry. She refused to look back at Malfoy. She lifted her hand to rest her head upon it and again noticed a more defined tinge on her skin.

She brought it out in front of her and stared, as a greenish colour slowly began to appear. Hermione looked around her arm. It was nowhere else. She had gotten it by touching Ron. That was how it had transferred onto her.

"Now I'm going to give you time to work on those essays about the effects of kettleweed due next class. I expect no excuses." Snape swept down the middle aisle in quick steps, pausing at the end. "And," he turned towards Ron and Harry, "no copying."

Hermione smiled uneasily upon Harry and Ron's soft groans. She pulled out her essay, mostly finished already. After a few failed attempts to continue, she took out a clean piece of parchment, deciding to spend her time taking up Draco's challenge.

She pondered her thoughts. Something that had to be fast. Easy to do in a short time, and could be done in big proportions. It was also easily transferred.

Hermione liked to solve puzzles, and smiled to herself as she jotted down the notes. Logic, she had always said, was the best way to go at it.

"Psst, Hermione, what're you writing?" Ron leaned over to look at her work.

She shook her head as he took her paper. "Ron, please, your hand's are all inky!" She snatched it back and frowned at the black marks covering the edges of her page.

She began jotting some more ideas down when an idea struck her.

What if…what if it was as simple as just colouring? What if it was just a dye, like ink, a modified version of say…food colouring…that took longer to display so as to not reveal suspicion.

It wasn't impossible.

She looked at her hand. She'd have to try some vinegar later.

* * *

He supposed he had it coming.

He grimaced, and thanked Merlin he hadn't been put into Gryffindor. Red didn't look good on him.

As embarrassing as it was, his first reaction looking into the mirror that morning was a scream. And then some loud cursing. He was pretty sure he heard Hermione's chuckles, and _snort _from all the way in her room.

And then he had looked around his room, and screamed again. This time, Hermione's laughter was distinctly heard.

He swore quietly and touched his hair. Red. Blood red. Bloody blood red. He touched his skin. He looked like a tomato! He looked like a ….Weasley.

Draco shuddered. And his room was…no surprise now, blood red.

And now, as the shock had settled down, he supposed he had to be impressed too.

He didn't give her enough credit. He underestimated her. And she was making a point.

He sighed and picked up the bottle of vinegar she had left for him. He guessed that meant no more green Gryffindors today. Pity, it rather gave him a good laugh.

A piece of paper drifted to the ground. He leaned over, grimacing again at the sight of his red skinned hands as he reached for the paper and read the note.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_You really thought that was going to stump me didn't you? If so, you've really got another thing coming. I told you to watch you back. It was almost too easy._

_Hermione Granger._

He crumpled the paper in his hands and tossed it into the rubbish bin. _Too easy? _He'd show her.

A while later, as Draco walked into the great hall, he changed his mind. She showed him. He was still the same shade of bloody red.

He stomped his way towards the Gryffindor table, to one brunette in particular.

She didn't turn around, although she knew he was there. "Wow," she said with a smirk on her lips, "something's smelling…sour. Literally."

She turned around. "Oh, it's you."

"Granger," he growled slowly. "Don't test me."

"I guess the vinegar didn't work eh?"

His nostrils flared. "No."

She smiled brightly at him. "No, I didn't think it would either. I just wanted to see you try. You didn't actually think it'd be that easy did you. Sorry."

He could tell she was having fun. "Granger, I'm warning you."

She stood up to leave, but he refused to budge behind her, so she slid further down and stepped across the bench. "Oh and Draco, I suggest you do something about the red. It's not your colour." She sent him a haughty wink and then left, laughing with Potter and the two Weasleys.

He raised his eyebrow. Maybe there was more to Granger than met the eye.

**A/N: REVIEW PLEASE! Tell me if its going too slow, too fast. Too boring? Too much? Just good? **


	4. Intoxicate Me

**Intoxicate Me**

Hermione adjusted her red and yellow tie, loosening its grip on her neck. She brushed the stray hairs off her face and tucked them carefully behind her ear, before exiting her room and carefully shutting the door behind her quietly.

She had learned on her first few days here that she was usually gone well before Draco had even woken up, and so out of courtesy, she now tried to be as quiet as possible in the morning. So imagine her surprise when Hermione heard someone clearing his throat a fair distance behind her.

She jumped up, startled, and turned around to see Draco shutting his own door across the common area between them. The fire cackled quietly between them as a silence settled in.

Hermione brushed the imaginary lint off her skirt and cleared her throat. "So…."

Draco busily cuffed his sleeves and buttoned the remaining buttons on his shirt.

"You're not red anymore." Once the words left her mouth, she cursed herself inwardly. What a stupid thing to say! She should have just left.

He looked up. "Indeed I'm not," he replied, almost mocking her question, and paused for a moment, before continuing. "Neat spell you used on me Granger. Not bad."

Hermione knew it was a compliment. But also knew it to be a challenge as well. She finally stopped her mindless brushing and looked at him. "The food colouring wasn't bad either Malfoy," she replied.

He nodded, acknowledging her response.

Both stood awkwardly on opposite sides of the room for a few moments longer.

Draco was the first to move, heading towards the exit without another word. Hermione followed, shaking her head behind her. The portrait swung open for him, and Draco ducked through the entrance. He was about to head off before a call stopped him.

"Hey Malfoy." He turned around and waited as Hermione stepped out of the room behind him.

"What?"

She straightened and faced him. "Should I be scared you haven't done anything yet?" She smirked at the tease.

He couldn't help a small grin. "You should always be scared around me Granger," he answered, before turning back around. He began walking away. "Later Granger," he added, just before he disappeared around the corner.

Hermione remained in her position, momentarily stunned. Did Draco Malfoy just smile? At her?

She forced her legs to move, heading towards the great hall after Draco. He really _had _smiled. How could such a small smile change a person so much. Something wasn't right. Her brows knitted together in confusion. Was he planning something? Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He _had _to be planning something.

Revenge maybe? She bit her lip. Now she really _was _scared. She thought back to his smile, and realized that his smile was probably more dangerous than the man himself.

Not because it was intoxicating, because she knew it was. It was that, it almost made him seem…innocent. It almost made her forget, even if only for the moment that it was on his face, that he was completely evil. Utter evil.

Hermione frowned.

"Is something wrong Hermione?"

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts to see Ron and Harry sitting in front of her. She realized that she had already made it to her seat. She smiled and shook her head. "No, just thinking about something," she replied as she took a seat beside Ron.

"When are you not thinking about something Hermione?" Ron asked, scooting over to give her room.

She laughed. "Not everyone can be like you Ron," she replied back.

"Hey!"

Harry laughed. "Good one Hermione. So did you see Draco this morning?"

"Yeah actually, I did this morning."

"Was he angry?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food.

"That's gross Ron," Hermione replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She nodded as Ginny sat down opposite them, before continuing. "No actually, he was in a pretty good mood I think."

"Are we talking about Malfoy?" Ginny asked as she forked some pancakes onto her plate. "Cause yeah, I see him laughing over there." Ginny nodded towards a laughing group of Slytherins. "Weird."

"For a guy who's just been pranked, he seems oddly unaffected," Harry observed, quickly glancing towards where Ginny had been pointing towards.

"Doesn't that just scare you more?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"Absolutely," Ginny agreed after swallowing. "Anyways, speaking of Malfoy, his Slytherin team looks pretty good this year Harry."

"He has a pretty well-rounded team this year," Harry agreed reluctantly after consideration, "I looked at their posted tryout results this morning. Griffins as keeper was a bad decision though. That's their weak link."

Ron nodded, eager for a conversation not about Malfoy. "The Ravenclaw team is looking pretty decent this year too. I think they might have a chance this year."

"Have you chosen the team yet Harry?" Hermione asked, participating lightly in the conversation. Quidditch was never her thing really.

"Mostly, but there's still another tryout left today after class. I'll be posting the team list tomorrow morning."

"I think all the teams have a good chance this year," Ginny added thoughtfully.

* * *

"So it's going to be pretty even this year I think," Blaise continued. "It's going to be interesting."

"But the Gryffindors haven't posted their team yet," Theodore Nott pointed out.

"Their teams never that bad anyways," Blaise shrugged. "Potter's annoying, but he's a good enough captain. You have to give him that. What do you think Draco?"

Draco, hearing his name, pulled his eyes from the group of Gryffindors. "Yeah, yeah," he replied mindlessly.

Blaise gave Draco a questioning look. "Why were you looking at Potter?"

"Potter? I wasn't looking at Potter," Draco sneered.

"Then who? Weasley? Weaslette? Or Granger?" Nott urged, with a smirk.

"Granger probably," Blaise answered, ignoring Draco, "finding a way to get her back?"

Draco turned towards them finally. "Huh? What? Oh. Yeah, yeah."

"Don't you have patrol with her today? Do something then," Blaise pointed out.

"Too obvious," Draco answered, waving him off. "I nearly forgot I had duty tonight actually."

"Wouldn't blame you buddy," Nott muttered. "She's probably going to lecture you on the effects of plagart."

"Extracting her revenge by boring me to death probably," Draco snickered, casting a glance at the group of them. He watched her as she told a story to her friends and realized with a shock that he didn't really believe what he had just said. Hermione Granger wasn't as dull as he had thought her to be. Who knew she had it in her?

* * *

The day passed by rather uneventfully for Hermione. Arithmancy was a little difficult as they took notes on a new concept today. History of Magic wasn't as bad as it could have been. The Slytherins in her class had been tolerable, which was much better than usual. Draco hadn't talked to her, which was fine with her. That also meant he hadn't gotten her back yet.

Double charms was the best class of the day, as they had learned a new spell, and after mastering it in half the given time, she had used the rest of the time to finish the write up on that spell, which meant no homework for that class. Transfiguration was probably the most difficult class of the day. They had to transform moving objects, which created complete chaos in the classroom as students chased their scurrying rats around the room. But all in all, it was a fairly normal day at Hogwarts.

She yawned as she finished the remainder of her potions essay, scribbling on her name at the front and the date. She looked at the time as she packed her quill and ink away. Seven thirty. He was late.

She shook her head and sighed, standing up off the common room carpet and gathering her materials. Just as she was about to head to her room to drop her things off, the door swung open.

"Punctuality is a virtue," she said, altering the saying 'patience is a virtue', without looking at him. She walked around the couch and towards her room.

"Lucky I'm not virtuous then, right Granger?" he unfastened his gloves, and threw them on the common room table.

Hermione did her best to ignore the innuendo of his words.

"Don't you have any consideration for other people Malfoy?" Granger said as she emerged from her room after dropping her things off.

"Oh right, patrol."

"You _forgot?!" _

"I'm only late," he looked at the clock, "15 minutes."

"It's not so much _how _late you were, but just that you were late."

"Get over it Granger."

"Sorry Hermione. Next time I won't be late. That's not hard to say is it?" Hermione said, dropping herself onto a couch.

He sneered. "Something you should know about me Granger…I don't make promises I don't intend on keeping."

"Ugh!" Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "You're impossible. Can we just go now?"

"No, I'm going to shower first," Draco replied, as if it were the most logical thing.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "You're late, and now you're going to take a _shower."_

"Is there a problem?" Draco asked, unfastening his quidditch robe.

"Um…" Hermione pretended to think. "Yes. Maybe the fact that I'm tired of waiting and I want to get this over with?"

"Think about it this way Granger. It's a shower, or you're going to be smelling this loveliness," he lifted his arm to exaggerate his point, "all night long. You being friends with Potty and Weasley should know how great we smell after a nice quidditch practice right?"

She sniffed the air, and wrinkled her nose. "Ew, fine whatever shower. Just hurry it up okay Narcissus."

"I don't know if that was supposed to be a diss or not Granger. For one, Narcissus was the most beautiful god. If that was what you were insinuating then—"

"Oh in your dreams Malfoy." Hermione crossed her arms.

Draco shrugged. "Well anyways, if I was Narcissus, while you one day may have a boring book named after you Granger, I get a pretty little flower."

"You were going to shower Malfoy, remember?"

He rolled his eyes as he walked into the washroom. "Yes mother."

"You're a prick you know that?" she called loudly through the door. Draco laughed as he abandoned his clothes and stepped into the shower.

Outside, Hermione sighed, sinking into the couch. She picked up one of her old books lying on the table and opened it to a random page, beginning to read.

"Reading like the bookworm that you are?" Draco asked, as he ran a towel through his damp hair.

Hermione looked up, and faltered for a moment. Many people thought that Draco had no effect on her. But she doubted that anybody could be unaffected. It was merely that she refused to let herself become affected.

She ignored his snub and pointed towards the new addition to the common room she had just conjured up.

"What is that?" he asked, dropping the towel over the back of a chair.

"It's a whiteboard Draco." She grabbed her wand and pointed towards it, writing in the air as the words she wrote appeared on the board. "Just in case you forget again you know."

He read the words. "Head's meeting tomorrow." He turned to Hermione. "When did we have a head's meeting?"

"Oh I don't know, since the beginning of the year maybe? You know, the monthly meeting we planned to have with Dumbledore?"

Draco still looked confused.

"Let's try this another way. From now on, every last Thursday of each month we have a meeting with Dumbledore at seven. Not seven fifteen."

Draco smirked. "How about seven thirty?"

Hermione slammed her book shut and groaned. She put her book down and stood up. "Can we please just go? It's nearly 8."

Draco followed as Hermione headed towards the door. "No but I'm serious, how about seven thirty? I have a date."

"A date. A _date? _I have one word for you Draco," Hermione said through gritted teeth as her patience was wearing thing. "6 letters. Can you guess what it is?"

"Great, with an exclamation point?" he asked as she ducked through the entrance.

"No, cancel. C-A-N-C-E-L," Hermione answered, annoyed. She got through the entrance and straightened, finally noticing the presence of another person. "Oh, um. Hi."

"Why would I cancel Granger?" Draco asked as he too exited the common room. "Granger?" he asked as he noticed her nodding towards something behind him. He turned around. "Alicia."

The girl nodded. "I've been waiting for you Draco."

Hermione groaned inwardly. At this rate, they would never _start _patrol, much less finish. She looked around awkwardly. "Oh um…well this isn't weird at all. Okay, um…I forgot something in the comm—in there. I might be a while." She hurriedly mumbled the password to the man in the portrait and climbed through.

She sank back onto the couch and picked up her book once again. It was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Ok, here it is! :) Next chapter will be…a major argument between Draco and Hermione. :) I was going to put it in this chapter, but this was already like 2000 words so I'm going to save it for the next.**

****

**Anyways yeh, please review! I might redo this chapter. I mean, I'm sick and thats why I had time to write it. But at the same time, I have like a throbbing headache so I sorta just wanted to finish this chapter. **

PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE:)? I'll LOVE YOU FOREVER:)

Oh, and so I think this week I have some time...so MAYBE if there are alot of reviews...I can post the next chap by Friday:) . I'll try anyways.


	5. Take Me Off My Pedestal

**Take Me off My Pedestal**

Draco watched Hermione disappear into the head's dorm. He had half a mind to call out to her and ask her not to leave. Why did she have to leave him in this position, stupid Granger. He almost did it too. Almost called her back. But the thought of him begging her to stay was simply to humiliating that he immediately banished the thought. He wasn't so desperate. Yet. The door swung to a shut with a bang, and he lost his chance. He groaned inwardly.

He ran a hand through his still damp hair and leaned against the wall a fair distance apart from the girl. "You wanted to talk to me?" he started, looking straight ahead.

Alicia pulled her long red hair into a ponytail and breathed in deeply. "I didn't know how long you'd be. I thought you'd be coming in actually."

Draco shrugged, leaning his head against the wall. "We got held up."

"I see."

Draco nodded shortly.

Both remained silent for a moment.

"How's the team this year?"

Draco frowned. Didn't she have anything important to say? "Fine," he answered dully. "Good enough."

"I hope we win this year," she commented lightly.

"That's generally the idea, yes," Draco answered, annoyance peering through his words unwillingly. He would give it 3 more minutes. 3 more minutes and he would leave. He really didn't have time for—

"You know I don't really want to talk to you at all either, okay Draco?"

At that, Draco turned towards her finally. Her words surprised him, but he quickly hid the shock. "Then why are you here?"

"I walked away two days ago—"

"Technically I walked away," Draco added in.

Alicia groaned. She raised her hand. "Look I don't care alright?"

"Fine, then the conversation is done. Thank you for successfully wasting 10 minutes of my life." He pushed himself off the wall and turned around to call Hermione back out, before she hastily grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No Draco, it's not done," she said firmly. "We broke up two days ago and you gave me this necklace."

When she observed that he wasn't going to make another move to leave again, she let go of his arm and reached into her bag, pulling out the box he had handed to her days ago. She opened the cover and fingered the gems. "It's a really nice necklace—"

"Is that what you want? Another necklace? A matching bracelet? Cause fine, I can give it to you—" Draco cut in. He put his hands in his pant pockets and leaned on the wall again.

"No Draco! Stop it! You still don't understand!"

"You're right," Draco said calmly. "I don't." He paused, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, Draco looked at his watch. "Okay, if you're just going to spend all night yelling at me, telling me I don't get _it _whatever it is, then I'm rather inclined to leave."

"You just don't get it!" Alicia accused, facing him now.

"And there she goes again."

She snapped the box shut, the echo resounding through the empty halls. She thrust the box at his chest. "Here. Take it. I don't want it."

Draco caught the box in his hands. "What?"

"I said," Alicia reiterated, "I don't fucking want it!"

Draco's brows knit in confusion, and Alicia couldn't help a strangled laugh. "I don't want your patronizing little goodbye gifts. Not every girl wants your money or your presents Draco."

"You know what I think Draco?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. He gripped the box in his hands. "No," he forced out.

"I think that it eases your guilt. I think it makes _you _feel better when you give those presents." Alicia watching with satisfaction as a grimace flashed through his face.

Draco glared at her. "I don't feel guilty." He clenched his fists together, hating the fact that she was acting like she knew him so well. Well she didn't. And to make that point clear, Draco told her aloud. "You don't know anything about me."

Alicia raised her hands in mock surrender. She took a step back, knowing he was getting angry. "No, you're right. I don't know _anything_ about you. Which sadly doesn't surprise me at all." She dropped her hands to her side in defeat. She looked up at him slowly. "But I know you have a conscience Draco. That's why I don't want your present."

Draco was flustered. Not that he would ever show it. But none of the girls he ever dated had come back and actually returned his present. She was right, he supposed. Giving those gifts did make him feel better. He looked away from her. "Fine, you don't want the necklace. Better for me."

"I don't want it because I want the guilt to eat you up inside. I want you to feel bad for once. Truly feel bad I mean. But maybe that's too much to ask." She shrugged, turning away from him.

Draco watched her walk away. Angrily, he pushed himself off the wall and was about to head in when he heard her say something that made him stop in his tracks.

"It's not always going to be like this Draco. One day, you'll like someone. You'll truly like someone. And I hope when that day comes, she—whoever she is—teaches you a lesson about yourself."

Alicia knew he heard her words, even from her distance away, by the way he had stormed into the dorm after she had finished. She touched the corner of her eye, brushing away the tear forming, before she turned around and slipped into the darkness, finding her way back to the Slytherin dorms. She truly meant what she had said.

Hermione looked up, startled at the noise coming from the entrance. She was about to make a comment when she noticed Draco's stormy expression. She watched as a completely different person from the Draco earlier storm into his room.

She softly closed her book, shrugging. She always knew he was somewhat bipolar anyways.

Draco threw the box on his bed. What right did she have? None. Who was she to try and tell him what he was doing was wrong? Not even his _mother _could do that. Well she was wrong. He would never give his heart to anyone.

He stormed out of his room. "Granger, let's go," he demanded, and without a second glance as to where she was, he headed towards the door.

Hermione bit back a scathing remark. He's just in a bad mood, she chanted to herself. He's just in a bad mood. She set her book down slowly and stood up. He's just in a bad mood.

"We don't have all day Granger," he said, tapping his foot impatiently, looking away from her.

"What is wrong with you Malfoy?!" Hermione bit back, her self control gone. "We don't have all day?" She stomped her way over to him and pointed her finger at his chest. "Tell that to yourself why don't you. First you're late because of Quidditch. Then you go and take your time in the shower. And then you and your girl problems--"

He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away. "Look, I'm not in the mood for this Granger, so let's just go." With his hand still around her wrist, he began to pull her towards the door.

She wrenched herself out of his grip. "Newsflash Malfoy. The world, in fact, does _not _revolve around you." She then proceeded to push past him out the door.

Draco rolled his eyes but followed anyways.

They began their weekly trudging down the empty halls, Hermione walking in front of Draco. It was about a month into the school year, and each time, they never spoke much more than occasional words to one another. So it came to a surprise to Draco when Hermione spoke up, especially since she was so clearly angry at him just moment before.

"Alright, sorry," she forced out reluctantly. If she thought that he would be inclined to return the favour, she was wrong. However, she didn't seem to expect anything as she continued on. "I don't really want to fight."

"Fine," he replied shortly. They rounded a corner, and Hermione slowed her pace so that Draco could catch up with her.

"So, why was she here," Hermione asked, after moments of silence, out of genuine curiosity as her anger faded away. Draco rolled his eyes.

"It's really none of your business."

Hermione scoffed. "What, was she asking to get back together? Or was she returning your gift to her huh?" Realization dawned on her as Draco's expression shifted. "Oh so that's it."

"I _said, _it's none of your business," he gritted out.

Hermione ignored him, opting to continue. "What did you expect Draco? That every girl you left high and dry would just take it wordlessly? Come on Malfoy." She chuckled lightly.

Draco stopped walking, causing Hermione to stop as well. He turned to face her. "What does this have to do with you? Why do you care?"

Hermione frowned at his serious tone. "Anybody would care Malfoy, except obviously you."

She paused, considering her next words. Hermione crossed her arms. "It just makes me sick! Watching you throw around these poor girls. You don't even _care _about them."

"Why does everyone think they can tell me what I'm going, or why I do it?! Just butt out of this Granger. You stick your nose into everything, when none of it's your business. It's a wonder Potter and Weasley still tolerate you!" Draco growled, towering over her, looking down at her.

Hermione, however, didn't cower. She looked at him in disbelief, and Draco noticed a tinge of hurt on her face. "Harry and Ron are my _friends. _Which is more than you can ever say about the people you know!" She paused, and raised her voice. "And it _is _my business. Because do you know how disgusting it is to watch them all get hurt because of you?! Do you even know their favourite colours? Do you even know their names?!"

"I never once pretended that I was anything other than what I am! It's their own faults," he defended angrily, shooting daggers at her with his eyes.

She scoffed. "And you think that justifies it? Just because you don't lie and pretend you care it makes it all okay?" She leaned forward. "Get off your little pedestal Malfoy. It's not like that!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't judge me," he warned, his voice dangerously low, "you have no right to judge me Granger."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Then, she narrowed her own eyes. "I'll judge you if I want to," she hissed.

Draco straightened. "See, Granger, that's your problem. You think you're so great."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Draco cut her off.

"You think just because you're friends with Potter-the-boy-who-saved-the-day, just because you do good in school, just because teachers love you, that you're above everyone else," he lashed.

"I do not!" But the words hurt. They hurt because she knew there was some truth behind them. She flinched inwardly.

"Yes. Yes you do! You look down on people! You think you're above them all. So why don't you get off _your _pedestal, Granger," he spat out.

"And what about you Malfoy!" she returned fervently. "You think you don't look down on people."

"Oh I know I do! But that's the difference between you and me. At least I don't deny it Granger. I look down on people because I _am _better than them. But you. Oh you," he shook his head empathetically. "You pretend. You lie. And all the while, you judge. All you do is judge!"

Hermione looked away from him. Draco wasn't right! she fumed. He couldn't say those things to her—

"See you're doing it right now! You're judging me. And I just wish you'd stop." Draco resumed his typical scowl. "You think you're perfect Granger. And that. That's you biggest flaw."

Hermione swallowed her hurt and glared at him. She didn't care how close to home he was. "Flaw?" She spat the word out as if she had tasted something vile. "Don't talk to me about flaws Malfoy." Her eyes flashed. "Don't think that being up front about what you are makes it okay. You're an ass, and a pig. That's all there is to you. "

"You don't know me! You may think I'm evil, you think I have no morals—"

"I don't think that Malfoy. I just think that you don't _let _people know you! You're just a scared spoiled insufferable little brat!"

"And you're an uptight judgemental prude!" Draco snapped back.

"Fine!" Hermione yelled. "I'm taking the bottom floors. Get out of my way." And with that, she marched off.

"Fine!" Draco retorted. He whirled around and stomped off the other way. "I like this better anyways," he called.

He sighed as he heard her disappearing footsteps.

**A/N: So soo….first I want to thank all those that have reviewed. I really appreciate it. **

**And secondly, of course…..REVIEW:)**

**And I totally forgot to say that HP was not mine and all that. But I'm sure all of you already know that. :)**

**So who do you think's going to apologize first?:)**

**OH OH , and give me cookies. I finished the next chapter ahead of time cause I had to stay home another day cause of me coughing:( **

**REVIEW!**


	6. And Put Me on the Ground

**And Put Me on the Ground**

Hermione was running late. She rushed around her room frantically, tossing books into her bag as she went. It didn't help that her first class was with Snape. She groaned, and buttoned up her shirt while slipping on her shoes. She'd probably have to sprint to class. Her stomach growled.

"Sorry buddy," she murmured, grabbing her back, "you'll have to wait."

She burst through her door in frenzy, using her fingers to comb through her hair, hoping that it was at least half presentable. She sighed and rushed through the common room when she caught a whiff of something in the air.

It smelled like food. She sniffed. Cookies maybe? She stopped and turned around, catching sight of a brown paper bag sitting on the common room table. A few wrinkles appeared between her eyebrows in confusion. She checked the clock, and quickly hurried to the bag. With little effort, she opened it, and was overcome by the mouth watering smell of blueberry muffin.

She looked up at the whiteboard.

_You're not an uptight judgemental prude if I'm not a scared spoiled insufferable little brat? Deal?_

_How is it that you get 4 insults and I only get 3? _

_P.S. It's not poisoned. I promise._

Hermione bit her lip and resisted the urge to chuckle. She shook her head, before remembering that she was running late. Without another look back, she flew out the door, one hand holding her bag, the other holding the muffin. Snape was going to _kill _her.

* * *

"Everyone give Miss Granger a round of applause class. She has so kindly decided to grace us with her presence," Snape immediately began as Hermione slipped into the potions classroom.

She had hoped to go in unnoticed. She knew it was too much to ask. She cursed inwardly. "Sorry professor."

"Any reason why I should not dock points from Gryffindor for tardiness?"

The Gryffindors held back a groan, knowing it would only cost them more points. "No sir," Hermione replied reluctantly.

"Good, then 5 points from Gryffindor. Now kindly take your seat and not waste anymore of my time Miss Granger."

Draco faintly heard Hermione curse and fought a smile. He turned around, pleased to see that she was carrying his peace offering. He caught her eye, and gave a curt nod. He didn't know whether she saw or not because she gave no returning sign of acknowledgement, but it didn't matter to Draco. He turned around back to face the front and leaned back in his chair.

As Snape began circulating the room whilst lecturing, Draco fought a yawn. Potions was usually one of his favourite classes, but not when Snape began one of his lectures. It was almost, _almost, _as bad as Professor Bins. And that was saying something.

Hermione, a few seats behind Draco, was paying as much attention to Snape as Draco was. She was busy nursing her growling stomach. She was a person that liked breakfast. No. Better said, a person that needed her breakfast.

"Shut up," she hissed.

"Excuse me Miss Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip, slowly raising her head to see the professor standing at the edge of her aisle. "Um..hi professor."

"Did you just tell me to _shut up?" _Snape growled.

Harry bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. "W-well you see," Hermione stuttered, "I wasn't talking to you."

"Then _who _were you talking to may I ask."

Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. She couldn't well say that she was talking to her stomach. She didn't have to look around to know that everyone was looking at her now. "I—" she began, before her stomach interrupted her with a loud growl. She closed her eyes. She could hear snickers throughout the classroom and felt herself redden.

Draco watched, chuckling. Granger was blushing! She was actually blushing. God forbid he think it, but she didn't look too bad blushing.

"Yeah…that," Hermione finished weakly.

Snape looked absolutely disgusted. "Very well, moving on," he said, before turning around. Once he was safely looking the other way, Hermione nudged Harry in the ribs with her elbow to stop him from laughing. She sent a rather frightful glare at him, before ignoring the remaining snickers, including Draco's and picked up her quill.

"And that was when Urlinger discovered the usage of fickle dust," Snape droned on as he walked back down the aisle.

With her right hand, Hermione scribbled down quick notes. She slid down lower in her seat and with her left hand, reached into the bag with the muffin. Looking around, she quickly ripped a piece off and brought if to her mouth. Pleased that she had gotten away with it, she reached for another piece.

"Oh shut up Harry," she murmured quietly as he sent a look at her.

He chuckled. "Wipe the crumbs away," he suggested quietly with another chuckle.

She was never going to miss breakfast again.

* * *

Hermione liked to say that she was an optimistic person—the cup was half full type of girl. And although there really wasn't much to be optimistic about that morning, she figured the day really couldn't get much worse.

That was..until she picked up her paper bag left with only crumbs at the end of double potions and it dawned on her that she probably needed to apologize to Draco too.

And then she wasn't so much the optimistic person anymore. She sighed. It didn't help that he was in all her classes today.

Now it was nearly the end of the school day. Defence against the dark arts had passed, and they were nearing the end of her Ancient Runes class.

She needed to somewhat apologize, while maintaining her dignity. She sighed. Impossibilities of impossibilities. Apologizing to Draco meant losing her dignity. Although she supposed it was fair since he had…somewhat offered peace. She got the feeling that Draco didn't really apologize much.

As the bell rung, Hermione shuffled out of her seat. She grabbed her finished translation off her desk and stuffed it in her bag, hurrying to the door. Once she made it out of the classroom, she leaned against the outside of the door.

Draco picked up his wand and murmured a quick drying spell on his parchment so that the ink wouldn't run. Once finished, he grabbed his books and put them in his bag. He quickly scanned the room, unconciously looking to see where Hermione had gone. Ancient Runes was a combined class, containing students from all four houses. When he didn't spot her, he grabbed his bag and headed out the classroom.

Maybe he had been a little harsh with Hermione last night. That was the only reason he had gotten her the muffin. He supposed she was only curious. What else could he expect from something like Hermione?

As he passed through the doorway, he caught sight of Hermione leaning against the door. Usually, she sped off immediately after class. She didn't seem to be paying much attention. Maybe she was waiting for someone? Puzzled, he looked behind him to see an empty classroom. He smirked.

"Waiting for me Granger?"

Hermione jumped. "Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "When did you get out?"

"Just now. Lucky I noticed you, or you'd be waiting until nightfall."

"Who says I was waiting for you?" Hermione defended, tilting her head up.

Draco chuckled. "My bad then, I guess I'll just—"

"Okay fine. I just thought you know…you were heading back to the dorm, and I was ..the same way…heading to the dorm…and…"

"Let's walk back together then shall we Granger," Draco cut in, seeing Hermione stutter.

Hermione nodded, relieved. She took the lead and began heading down the flight of stairs to the main hallway.

And the end of the staircase, she paused, leaning to the side to let people through. Draco waited patiently until the full class had dispersed.

"You know, you're not really good at apologizing," Hermione began, smirking.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Who said I was apologizing?"

Hermione laughed and shrugged. "No one."

She began walking again, and Draco easily caught up with her.

"So, you're stomach likes talking as much as you do eh Granger?" Draco teased.

"Oh shut up you prick. I faintly recall your stomach growling pretty loudly last time."

Draco sneered. "Fine. Fair point."

"Thank you," Hermione responded. Draco sensed that she was half amused, half sincere. "Since you erased my notice on the whiteboard, do you remember what's tonight?"

"Meeting with Dumbledore at seven thirty."

"SEVEN DRACO!" Hermione huffed.

"But…but what about my date!"

"Ugh!" Hermione groaned, crossing her arms.

Draco laughed. "Alright fine. Seven. I rescheduled alright?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment, before realizing she had been played. She threw her hands up and groaned again. "Impossible," she muttered.

"Impossibly handsome is right."

"More like impossibly annoying."

"Impossibly smart."

"Just impossible."

Draco laughed again, and Hermione couldn't help feel her anger melt away. His laugh was probably just as dangerous as his smile, she realized with a shake of her head.

They paused as the made it to the dorm entrance. "Alohomora," Draco announced. The young girl in the portrait nodded her head, and swung her painting forwards, allowing them entrance.

Hermione went in first, followed by Draco. She was about to enter her own room when she paused, hand on her doorknob.

"I judge people," Hermione admitted suddenly. So much for maintaining dignity. She frowned. "I try not to, but I know I do."

Draco forced himself to remain expressionless, knowing any sign of smirking would cause her to stop. "Okay."

She turned around. "And I know I'm not perfect."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Well then…" Hermione began. "Well then good." She nodded her head swiftly began to push open the door.

"I do know their names. But I don't know their favourite colours. Or favourite books. I should, but I don't."

Hermione smiled slowly. She looked up at him. "Okay," she whispered.

"And…" he began, looking upwards, "and I don't hurt them on purpose. Really."

"I know," she replied, nodding her head. "I know."

He nodded curtly as well, and watched her disappear into her room. Just as he was about to head to his own room, he realized that the message on the white board had changed.

_Deal._

_And I can get 4 insults because I'm simply better than you Malfoy._

_P.S. The muffin was good. But if I ever find evidence that a house elf baked it (You don't bake), you better watch your back. (S.P.E.W.)_

Well, didn't that look like fun.

Draco drew out his wand and erased the words, replacing them with his own.

_A house elf baked it. With no choice otherwise._

_What are you going to do about it?_

He smirked and tucked his wand away, heading to his own room.

* * *

Dumbledore peered at the two of them over the rim of his glasses, carefully running a hand delicately through his white beard.

He almost didn't dare ask, seeing Hermione glaring at the smirking Draco. He sighed.

"So…," he began, "how have my two heads been getting along?"

"We don't get along—"

"Fine—"

Hermione sent Draco a look. "See, we're not even getting along now." Hermione rolled her eyes. "We would probably get along better if he took his duties more seriously," she mumbled.

Dumbledore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What do you mean by that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione glared at Draco. "He was going to go on a date instead of coming to this meeting," she announced, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at Draco.

Draco scoffed. "Tattletale! Well I didn't did I? Professor, Granger was eating in potion's class!"

"Now who's the tattletale?" Hermione responded, crossing her arms.

"Erm…that's more of an issue for Professor Snape," Dumbledore said kindly smiling, "So now that I see you two are getting along brilliantly, I'm reassured."

Hermione snorted and Draco outright laughed. Dumbledore gave them a look.

"Erm—"

"Right, sorry Professor," Hermione hastily apologized.

Dumbledore shook a head, laughing inside. "Alright, well I'm sure you're aware that you need to plan some Hogsmeade trips coming up. I think I'd also like to have a Christmas ball this year."He rubbed his hands together as his eyes took on a faraway look. "I always used to love the balls."

He turned back to his students, now smiling brilliantly. "And that's it for today." He gestured towards the door. "Thank you for coming, Miss Granger, and thank _you _Mr. Malfoy," he said pleasantly.

Draco shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Hermione stood up to leave. "Um..you're welcome sir?" He hurried after her.

He easily caught up with Hermione, and once they were a safe distance away from the headmaster's office, he let out a sigh. "I can't believe I missed a date for _that. _"

Hermione whirled on him. "I can't believe I ate a muffin made by a house elf that was _forced _into it!"

Draco smirked and sauntered ahead.

"Ugh!"

**A/N: HAH NEITHER APOLOGIZED FIRST:) because they're both stubborn foooools:)**

**But we love them anyways! I think my Draco is a little too nice:( But I can't bear to make him mean! I'm sorry. **

**SO SO REVIEW! BECAUSE AS MUCH AS YOU LOVE THEM. AMYBE YOU COULD LOVE ME TOO AND REVIEW! The pretty new green button thing!:D**


	7. Even the Midgets Grow Up One Day

**Even the Midgets Grow Up One Day**

She giggled, grabbing his hand in hers boldly, leading him to the side of the road in a slight jog. He let her, watching as her curls blew wildly in the whipping wind. She turned to him as they stood on the sidewalk, nose red and cheeks flushed from the slightly chilly weather. The sun was setting now, casting a sort of glow around the whole Hogsmeade village.

"Hello," she whispered, dropping his hand, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He widened his stance to support her.

"Hi?" he murmured back, smirking slightly, looking down at her.

She smiled suddenly, mischievously, eyes twinkling in delight. She took some unsteady steps backwards, stumbling slightly, but having Draco to support her. He followed her, taking a step forwards so that her back was against the wall, wrapping one arm around her waist.

"So," she began, not letting go of him, "today was sorta fun."

"Sort of?" he questioned knowingly.

She shrugged nonchalantly. Then smiled brightly, losing the act. "I'm glad you postponed," she said softly.

"Oh?"

She leaned up towards him, on her tiptoes. "Mmhmm," she murmured, nodding.

He didn't respond, his face passive as he stared down at her. The only sign of his lust were his eyes, smouldering and stormy. "Ah," he sighed.

And then her lips were on his, hesitantly at first. Her lips were soft. And sweet. They tasted like strawberries. He liked it.

He let her immerse herself into the kiss, before fully responding. He bent down lower, grazing her sweetened lips with his tongue, marvelling both the taste and the smooth feel. He heard her soft moan of appreciation, as her lips parted. He smiled inwardly.

_Because do you know how disgusting it is to watch them all get hurt because of you?! Do you even know their favourite colours? Do you even know their names?!_

He flinched visibly, and could feel her pull back in reaction. Probably wondering what was wrong. He shook himself inwardly, and brought his other hand to her face, resting his knuckles on her cheek in reassurance, never breaking the kiss, sliding his tongue slowly, tauntingly, into her welcoming…

_Do you even know their names?!_

Merlin, not now of all times. Lord…he cursed himself…Granger. The hand previously on her waist slipped to the wall beside her head. He slowly pulled back, his eyes closed for a brief moment, savouring the feel, before he snapped to attention, restraining himself with his hand on the wall.

She looked up at him, with round eyes. "What?"

He bit his lip. He could really just go on kissing her.

_Because do you know how disgusting it is…_

Okay, okay, okay, enough already. He sighed heavily, and shook his head to get Granger's voice out of his mind. Really. She annoyed the hell out of him sometimes. Most times. All the time.

He looked heavenward, almost wanting to laugh at himself. "Want to go for a drink first?"

The girl, she nodded slowly, brows furrowed. "Okay."

He pushed himself off, hands clenched. When did he grow a conscience? Better yet, when did Granger's voice _become _his conscience? It was rather annoying. He led the way towards The Three Broomsticks.

Draco pushed open the door, revelling in the rush of warm air as he entered the popular inn. It was a welcome reprieve from the lashing winds outside, and the cooling temperature. He held the door open behind him, shivering instinctively as a rush of cold air swept in.

"Thank you," the girl said, nodding slightly as she stepped past him. He nodded, and let go of the door. At the same time, his eyes scanned the room for available seats.

"Over there," he said, spotting an empty small table and two chairs tucked away at the back of the shop. "Would you like a butterbeer?"

She nodded, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "Yes please," she said, shivering slightly herself. It was unusually cold temperature for the beginning of October.

"Alright, I'll get it, you want to head over first?"

"No, I'd rather wait with you." She smiled, tucking her dark brown locks behind her ear. She licked her lips.

He nodded suppressing and instinctive groan of pleasure, "right, sure." _Damnit. _Turning towards the bartender, he added. "Two butterbeers please. Over there." He pointed to the seats. He handed the man a few sickles and walked over, grabbing her hand as he lead her over.

As they made it to the chairs, which remained, surprisingly empty, they both took their seats. No sooner had they sat down, the two drinks appeared on the table. Draco picked up the drink and took a slow sip, the warm liquid searing down his throat.

He took the moment of silence as she too took a drink to rack his brain for her name. Kat—. Kathleen? Or Katherine? Or was it Cathy?

Katherine. That was it.

She rather looked like a Katherine too, he supposed. Whatever a Katherine was supposed to look like?

Her voice cut into his thoughts.

"So why are we here?"

He sighed. "To talk."

She cringed. "_That_ never sounds good."

He shook his head. "Not _that _talk," he grimaced. "Just talk."

"Just talk?"

He shrugged. Is that what he was supposed to do? Is that how you did it? Never on any date he'd ever been on had he done this…talking thing.

Then, she surprised him by laughing. He looked up, startled and a little peeved. "You've never done this before have you?" she chuckled knowingly.

He wanted to protest, but figured it a useless cause. He merely sneered and refused to answer.

She assumed herself to be right. "So why the sudden change? I mean…I certainly wasn't protesting," she questioned, referring to before. And by the way she said it, and the way she leaned forwards as she said it, the way she winked at him as she said it, Draco guessed she wouldn't protest if he started it right back up.

He clenched his fists again. No, he'd prove to the mud—know-it-all he could do this.

"Talk," he growled through his teeth, "we're just going to talk."

She leaned back again, a smirk on her face. "Say, I'm sort of impressed." She shook her head. "Maybe the rumours were wrong."

"I highly doubt it," he murmured suggestively. He shook his head. "No. Talk. Talk." He chanted under his breath.

She laughed. "Alright. Alright. So what do you want to _talk _about?"

He figured she wasn't going to make this easy for him at all. But just the thought of Hermione stunned expression when he told her about his date placated his annoyance. "What's your favourite colour?"

* * *

He yawned, stretching lazily as he sauntered back towards the dorm. So the talking thing hadn't been too bad. It could have been worse.

He yawned again, his eyes tearing barely. Draco was tired. He really just wanted to climb into bed and sleep.

In his mind, he did a quick check to see if he had completed all of his assignments for tomorrow. Once satisfied that it was all completed and he really could simply climb into bed once he reached his room, he sped up.

He paused in front of the portrait acting as the entrance to the head's dormitories. He felt slightly guilty watching the man tucked in his bed, snoring. He knocked on the frame, jostling the poor victim out of his bed. His nightcap fell over his eyes, as he landed in a heap on the ground.

The man pushed himself up to a stand, glaring at Draco. "Aren't you past curfew?" he grumbled angrily, rubbing his eyes.

"I _am _the curfew," Draco snorted. "You know that by now."

The man rolled his eyes, tossing himself onto his bed. "Well then?" he asked, annoyed, crossing his arms. "Password?"

"Alohomora," Draco stepped back, preparing for the portrait to swing open.

Except it didn't.

He frowned. "Hey, sleepyhead, alohomora I said. Open up." At the weird look the man gave him, Draco's frown deepened and he stepped closer. "What?"

"Well, the password was changed," he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Changed? When was it changed? Why was it changed?"

The man shrugged, his back to Draco as he lifted up his blanket. It was obvious to him that Draco didn't know the new password, so there was nothing delaying him from returning to his slumber.

"_Who _changed it?" Draco suddenly growled, knowing well before the man answered.

"The head girl. Hermione Granger." The man tucked himself into bed, yawing once before sliding down, resting his head on the pillow.

"Oh, don't you sleep on me you blasted fool. Let me in!" he yelled, outraged.

The man yawned again, deliberately this time.

"Wake up!"

He turned around. "Do you mind, I'm trying to sleep here?"

Draco growled. "Yes, I mind. I want to get in there. "

"Well, I _need _the password."

"Ugh," Draco groaned. "Granger," he hissed. He sighed angrily. "Okay fine. How about…Hogwarts?"

The man actually snorted at Draco.

"Fine, too obvious? Okay." Draco grimaced. "Please don't say it's like..I love Ronald Weasley or something."

The man shook his head.

"No thank god. Don't think I could say that every day. Any hints?"

The man shook his head again. "You're really wasting my time here. You're never going to get it you know. I guess she really doesn't like you."

"No really," Draco mumbled under his breath. "I hate Draco Malfoy?" he tried. "Ferret-face? Ferret-boy?"

"Nope, nope and nope. That's three. Look, just give up alright." The man sighed and made a move to turn back around.

"No!" Draco protested. "You need to go in there and tell her to get her ass our here!"

"And _you _need to stop telling me what to do," the man huffed at Draco, before pulling out a set of earplugs and jamming them into his ears before Draco could utter another word. "Woke me up for nothing," he grumbled angrily, "and I was having a blasted good dream too."

"Hey!" Draco roared, but the man didn't respond. "Hey!"

He hissed angrily and gave the portrait one last good shake before stalking off angrily. Hermione was never going to come out, and if she never came out, he obviously had no way of going in. He really wasn't foolish enough to stand there all night waiting for her to take pity on him.

He groaned as he arrived at the staircase, looking down at the amount of flights he would have to take to get down to the dungeons. As he sighed and flew down the steps in a rage, he realized that he would have to trek all the way back up the next morning before she left to get his books. She'd probably purposely make him late for potions. And _then _Snape would kill him. He slammed his palm on the railing, frustrated, and inadvertently cause the entire staircase to shift towards the opposite direction.

Everything was against him tonight. He tried slamming his palm on the railing a few more times in hope that the staircase would move back, but it only made his hand hurt. He finished the steps, nursing his hurt hand, and looked around to find another way down. Stupid staircases. Stupid Granger really.

He was probably asking for it anyways though. It was revenge for the whole house-elf thing. He fought a smile tugging at his lips. It was pretty good revenge, he conceded.

* * *

He flew up the stairs, moving left and right, avoiding the occasional people up and ready at this ungodly hour. His back ached slightly from the uncomfortable sleep in his dress robes. And he hated scourgifying himself. He absolutely hated it. He wondered how some wizards could prefer the charm over a good old hot shower.

Finally, he found himself back at the dorm. As he neared, he found himself smirking at the sight of the man in the portrait, snoring soundly in bed. Revenge, he thought to himself, was a sweet sweet thing. He wrapped his hand around the edge of the frame, and shook the picture violently, not stopping until the man in the picture was holding onto the frame of the bed for his dear life.

"Stop!" the man yelled. "Stop I say!"

Draco complied. "Hello again," he smirked, watching him.

The man rolled his eyes. "No wonder she hates you. You're a prick."

"And you know it." Draco crossed his arms, and rocked on his heels. "So where is she?"

"You missed her," the man replied, crossing his own hands. He nodded his head to a heap piled at on the ground to the right of the portrait.

Draco crossed over and grabbed his bag, sifting through it quickly to make sure all his books for the day were in it. Satisfied, he nodded towards the painting and headed off.

Faintly, in the background, he heard a distinct mutter. "Not even a thank you, that boy!"

* * *

"Your essay Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco jumped a little in his seat, his chair falling back on four legs as he sat up straight. "Er.."

Snape raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Your essay Mr. Malfoy," he repeated, hand outstretched, waiting for the papers impatiently.

Draco shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat, looking around to see everybody staring at him. "Well…"

Snape dropped his hand, clearly not amused. "Are you telling me you didn't finish it?" He pursed his lips. "I expected better of you."

Hermione snorted inwardly. If it had been anybody else, she thought bitterly, they'd have been lashed at, given detention, and maybe docked points if they were in Gryffindor. But no, she corrected herself, this was Draco Malfoy. And the only thing _he _got was a "I am disappointed with you."

Still, it was fun seeing him fidget. She leaned back with a small smile.

"I have it finished, professor!" he protested.

"Well then where is it?" Snape questioned with his usual condescending tone.

Draco grimaced. "In my room."

Snape sighed. "Well, go get it then please," he replied, motioning towards the door with his hand. "Or do I have to get it for you?" He turned around and returned to his desk, setting the other collected essays down. Hearing no sound, he turned back around to face the class. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm not _actually_ going to go get it for you."

The class resisted a chuckle.

Draco slowly pushed his chair out and stood up.

"Any slower now, and you might make it by next year."

Hermione chuckled.

Draco, hearing her chuckle, turned and glared. He hadn't wanted to get her in trouble. It wasn't the way he did things. Besides, it was much more fun to keep the games to themselves. However, if she asked for it like she was doing, he wasn't about to deny her.

He pretended to sigh. "Sir, it's just I can't get into my dorm."

Hermione's head snapped up, eyes widening. That little _worm, _she thought, narrowing her eyes.

"What do you mean, _you can't get into your dorm_?"

"Well sir, my password seems to have been changed."

Hermione gulped, and ignored Harry's nudge. Snape was looking at her now, and she wrung her hands nervously in front of her, afraid.

Draco looked on smugly.

Snape glared at Hermione, knowing well that she changed it. And for a moment, she was truly scared that he was going to punish her. But surprisingly enough, Snape merely sighed and turned away. He really didn't want to involve himself in their business.

Draco nearly let his mouth fall open in shock. What?

"But sir…" he protested weakly.

Snape raised his hand, without looking back at him, and stopped Draco short. "Figure it out, Mr. Malfoy," he sighed, almost dejectedly.

Draco pushed his chair in angrily and stormed through his aisle. He paused briefly, sending a meaningful glare at Hermione, before exiting the room.

Hermione watched him leave. She bit her lip, guilt slowly seeping into her. Raising her hand, she excused herself to go to the washroom. Hurrying out of the room, she looked around, seeing Draco waiting for her a short distance outside the door, leaning against the wall.

"Whatever Malfoy, let's just go," she said, walking past him.

He pushed himself off the wall as she passed, and walked with her. "I haven't even gotten angry at you for entering my room without permission."

She paused and looked at him, but he didn't seem truly angry. She rolled her eyes. "Ever heard of _summoning _Malfoy? You know…it's something that witches and wizards can do."

"Well, there's nothing proving you didn't go into my room."

"And there's nothing proving I did," she argued back.

He conceded her point.

"And besides," she added, looking at him, "do I look like I want to go into your room?"

She was right. Fine. He changed the subject. "So did you have your fun yet?"

She shrugged, knowing immediately what he was referring to. "I guess it was okay. Would have been more fun if you hadn't had anywhere else to sleep."

He smirked. "Sorry to ruin your fun then I suppose."

She turned to look at him, emitting her first real laugh in his company since he had known her. It was a beautiful laugh, he had to admit. And although her looks weren't anything extremely extraordinary, her laugh made her something spectacular. And watching as she blushed…

He snapped out of his absurd thoughts as he heard her speak. "Phellytone."

"What the hell is a phellytone?"

She chuckled, seemingly aware that she had let herself laugh before and controlling herself. "Nothing, just….something funny…"

"How clarifying," he drawled.

She shrugged, as they arrived. She gestured graciously at the man in the portrait and Draco took his cue. "Phellytone?" he mumbled, a weird look on his face.

"Do I have to let him in?"

Hermione smiled. "Guess he wasn't good company last night than Mitchell?"

"You have a name?"

"Yes," the man said, exasperated.

"Just open up already," Draco said, irritated.

"Does that _look_ like good company?" Mitchell, the man in the painting, snorted.

"Wait," Draco said suddenly, ignoring the man, "how did you change the password?"

"A little sweet talk never hurt," she murmured, sending Mitchell a wink, who blushed profusely.

"Conspiracy," Draco muttered darkly. He paused. "Okay, can I go in yet?"

Mitchell sighed with exaggerated reluctance, but allowed the boy entrance nonetheless.

Hermione remained outside as he hurried in. She knew that she wasn't really needed anymore, but couldn't bring herself to leave. Then again, Snape's potion class wasn't very inviting, she reasoned. The reason satisfied her, as she watched Draco reappear.

They took off together, without needed to say anything. It wasn't so much awkward, or comfortable. Merely…a silence.

However, as they neared the lower levels of the castle, he felt a small smile grow, covering it up quickly with a smirk. He turned to her and paused in his steps.

She stopped as well, giving him a look. "What?" she asked suspiciously.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and continued walking abruptly. She frowned, unsure what he was up to, but followed anyways.

Finally, he sighed. "Aren't you going to ask me what I was going to say?"

"No…you were going to say something?" She asked slowly.

He shook his head. "Her _name _is Katherine."

"Who's? Oh…the girl you postponed..okay…"

"Her favourite colour is blue. Her favourite food is spaghetti. But she doesn't eat it too often because she thinks it'll make her fat. She came from Scotland. Both her parents were wizards, and both her parents went to Hogwarts. So there."

Hermione couldn't help another small laugh, conscious of it this time, but uncaring. She couldn't help it. "Congratulations Malfoy, you now know five facts about your girlfriend." She pretended to applaud, slowing down her steps, not wanting to return to class.

"Six," he defended with a slight pout. "Her name counts."

"Of course," she rolled her eyes.

"Hey, it's five more then I would have known right?" He shrugged, the door in his sight now.

"Really though, Malfoy," she said seriously, "that's actually really great."

"You're not surprised?" he asked, ironically, surprised at the fact.

"Oh, I'm still surprised. I just might have to cross-check those facts to make sure you didn't lie," she teased, before quieting down and stepping back into the classroom.

He shook his head, waited a few moments, and then followed.

**A/N: HELLO ALL:)**

**THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS, and please please please keep reviewing.**

**Anyways, so like…I wonder if any of you guys have read my first written story, I thought we were real, because if you have, did anyone else notice my dramatic change in writing. I read it over the other day, and the beginning especially, made me literally cringe. **

**I really hope I'm improving as a writer. Comments on this? And the chapter/story progession too? It's MUCH longer this time:)**

**:)------------ |**

**RIGHT HERE \/**


	8. Cause You're Hot and You're Cold

**Cause You're Hot and You're Cold**

"…and by looking at the way these symbols are shaped. By this we know the runes…"

Hermione snuck a glance at the clock, seeing everyone slowly and quietly shuffle their belongings into piles on their desks. There were only a few minutes of class left. She gently picked up her papers, and bumped it on the desk, straightening the pile. She picked up the cap of her bottle of ink and screwed it on tightly.

The professor seemed to notice the time too, because she herself had stopped her lesson, and begun packing up her own belongings.

The bell rang, and immediately, the students sprung up from their seats. "Class dismissed."

Hermione stood up, stretching as she did. She then brought her bag up to the table, and tossed her papers and quills into it before buttoning the pouched closed. She grabbed it with one hand, and tucked her chair in with the other, filing out of the aisle along with the rest of the class.

"Hey," she said, looping the shoulder strap of her side-swung bag over her head, as she walked by Draco, leaning against the wall outside the door. He always made it out of class before her.

He nodded, falling into step beside her.

Harry and Ron didn't understand it. Why they walked back from Runes together now. "Why would you _choose _to spend more time than necessary with him?" Ron had asked, red in the face—quite literally. Harry hadn't been much better, reacting essentially the same way Ron had, except in a much quieter manner.

But really, Hermione thought to herself, sneaking a quick glance at him, he wasn't that bad. Although, the fact that he was almost bipolar was a tad difficult.

He wondered when this began. The whole, walking together business. The first few times he had waited for her. Then she had waited for him. It wasn't that bad usually, they would walk. Talk occasionally, though most of the time, she ended up talking, and he would just listen. This was truly the only time they spent together, aside from meetings. And truth be told, it wasn't as horrid as he thought it would be. He sort of liked hearing her rant sometimes. Sometimes even, if he was feeling nice that particular day, he even resisted the urge to make snide comments.

Or lessened the amount.

Nonetheless, Hermione did notice.

"Like what you see, Granger?" he asked. He didn't have to look at her for her to know the smirk was there.

Apparently not today, although she didn't mind as much as she used to. She rolled her eyes. Most of the time he wasn't that bad, she amended. But she couldn't keep from smiling. "Keep dreaming, Malfoy." And maybe, if they hadn't started out the way they did six years ago, they could have been friends of some sort.

They walked most of the way back without talking. And although this only began about two weeks ago, the day after their massive fight during patrol, silence had quickly become routine.

"Patrol at 8 tonight."

It wasn't phrased as a question, but Hermione nodded anyways. Often times, their patrols began at 8 whether planned or not. Punctuality, she had quickly learned, was simply not his strong suit. Besides, he had quidditch a lot, and she could understand that. Partially because of years being friends with Harry and Ron.

But she knew it was for another reason. She smiled. "So, still going out with her then?"

Draco smirked, casting her a sidelong glance. "Aw Granger," he teased, placing a hand over his heart, "it hurts that you have so little faith in me."

"Poor little Malfoy," she muttered sarcastically.

He laughed, one of his rare laughs that made Hermione understand just a little bit more why so many fell for the boy.

He didn't really like Katherine that much, to be honest. She was fun. She was the sort of girl that you had a fling with—hardly a relationship. And truth be told, if the physical aspect of the relationship weren't as good as it was, he didn't think he could stand it.

But the way Granger constantly asked whether he was still going out with her made it sound like a challenge. And there was no way he could ignore that. She made it sound like he couldn't maintain a relationship—and although he wasn't well known for long relationships—he _could, _and he would prove that to her. Pity he had chosen the mindless girl though, he mourned. Bad timing on his part. Alicia was better.

He figured she was doing it on purpose—challenging him that was. She was setting him up, urging him to change. And he knew it too. But some traps, you can't resist, even if you see it beforehand. And this was one of them.

He _would _prove to her. And then she would eat her words. He grinned to himself. She wouldn't be so cocky after that.

"We're going strong," he added awkwardly, for safety.

She sent him a weird look.

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"Did you completely not here what I said at all? We were talking about the winter ball now? Or I suppose I was talk about it and you were nodding mindlessly," Hermione went on, shaking her head.

"Was I?"

She supposed that was the best she was going to get. The chance of him saying sorry was about as high as him talking to Harry—not impossible, but so so so very unlikely.

She sighed as they reached the door.

"Phellytone," Draco announced, watching the door swing open. As much as he had tried to convince her to allow him to change it, she refused. And _Mitchell _now only listened to Hermione, apparently, much to Draco's displeasure. She had him completely wrapped around her finger. He let her enter first, before following behind her.

"Well then Granger," he said, sending her a short wave. He wouldn't ever let her know it, but it was nice walking back with her.

"See you tonight," she continued for him, with a nod, before heading to her room.

He smiled, nodding, and headed to his own. "Right. See you at the game."

* * *

"Did you walk back with him again?" Ron sighed, exasperated. Half from the fact that Hermione was still walking back with Draco, ignoring their protests, and half because he was hungry and the food had yet to arrive.

"Yes Ron, and you have a problem with that?"

"Bloody hell Hermione I have a problem with that and you know it!"

At his words, she looked up, annoyance written on her face. "And what's your problem with it?" she asked, daring him to continue.

Noticing this, and knowing not to cross her, he crossed his arms angrily. "Well…well….it takes you longer to get here!"

"I'm flattered that 2 minutes without me in your life affects you so much Ron," she chuckled, returning to her work on the table.

He huffed. Spotting Harry walk up, he protested. "Harry, help me convince her! He's going to be a bad influence!"

"Soon, I'm going to be slimy and have pet snakes too, right Ron?" Hermione laughed, scooting over as Harry slid in beside her.

"Ah Ron," Harry said, shaking his head, "she's not going to listen to you. Just leave it be." He, unlike Ron, knew when to quit. However, he leaned over towards Hermione. "Still Hermione, be careful alright?"

She smiled. "It's not like I'm going to fall for the guy Harry. I know better."

He shook his head. "I know you do. I know you're smarter than that. But sometimes things happen."

Ron, hearing the conversation, added hastily, "or he may trick you into it! Love potion maybe. Snape probably would help him make it too."

Hermione shook her head and laughed. "I'm not defending his character—or lack thereof at times," she saw Harry nod his agreement, "but he's not completely evil. The fights are sort of fun too."

"I know he's not evil Hermione, I'm just saying he's not the best of guys," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"Besides, do you _really _think he'd do that?" Hermione added, ignoring Harry.

Ron considered. "Okay, he probably wouldn't want you liking him."

"Gee Ron, you think."

"Alright, I'll give you that. But you can't possibly be _friends _with him," Ron protested.

Hermione shrugged. "We just head back to the dorm together. It's logical. We have the same class. And we're both going the same way," she explained. "Trust me, we're not friends."

"But now that we're on the topic," Harry began, "I still can't believe you locked him out of his own dorm! Actually, what I can't wrap my head around is how Snape completely let you off the hook!"

"It was brilliant Hermione," Ron agreed.

Hermione shrugged. "I really thought I was going to get it. At least a detention or something you know? Speaking of which, did Snape allow you to reschedule your detention from last class? I mean, your game is tomorrow."

"Against the Slytherins! He probably only allowed us to reschedule because he wanted to watch his house beat ours. Too bad we're going to have to disappoint him, right Harry?" He raised his hand.

Harry responded with the high five. "Right! You'll be there right Hermione?"

"When have I not been there?" she laughed. "First game of the season too!"

"Awesome Hermione! We'll wave!"

Hermione chuckled. "Alright," she murmured, humouring them.

"It's going to be great."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed. He looked over to the Slytherin table. "Tough," he admitted, scanning the heads for the members of the quidditch team, "but great."

Before Hermione could respond though, the first course of dinner appeared in front of them. As Ron hurriedly snatched the first piece of bread to show up, Hermione stuffed her work in her bag.

Her friends, she thought as she accepted the piece of bread Ron was offering her, were great. Like nagging mothers, at times, but she knew they were only looking out for her.

* * *

"Slytherin's are in the lead, ninety to seventy!" The crowd erupted in both cheers and 'boo's.

"Graham has the quaffle. She's passing it to Bings. Oh, oh, but it looks like Caper from Gryffindor has just intercepted the quaffle!"

The gryffindor's exploded, many standing up cheering. "And he narrowly avoids the bludger sent his way."

"Come on!" Draco yelled, tearing his eyes off the sky for a moment to urge his team. He glanced at Harry, making sure he hadn't spotted the snitch yet. "Come _on! _Richard, move it! Stop sitting there like a duck!"

Harry slowly began moving, circling the pitch from above, his hands sweaty from nervousness. It was like this every game—no matter how many years he played it. And he loved it. He wrenched his hands off the handle of his broom and shook them, relieving the tension.

A whistle blew, and Harry heard the distinct voice of Madame Hooch, amplified. "Blatching! Harper! Gryffindor ball!"

From above, he watched the speeding players, travel back and forth the pitch. He swooped down, displeased with his team. "James, help him out there," he called down urgently. The fifth year nodded, lifting up his bat.

"Jamieson sends the bludger over to help his teammate," the announcer said through the amplifier. But before he could give enough time for the fans to cheer, he added, "And Gryffindor scores! This cut's the lead to only 10!"

The Slytherin's were quick to retaliate, rounding back to the Gryffindor side of the pitch. "Come on Ron!" Hermione called, leaning over the guardrail. Her heart stopped for a moment as Ron cart wheeled with his broomstick, tumbling slightly in the air. The crowd roared as Ron up righted himself, quaffle tucked safely in his arm.

But the noise level was nothing compared when the first few members of the audience caught sight of Draco, diving head first down, followed mere moments afterwards by Harry.

Or what was assumed to be Draco and Harry. All Hermione could see was a flash of green followed by red. But she screamed nonetheless.

"Go Harry!" she yelled, jumping up and down. Despite herself, and all her moans and protests against the boys constantly talking about quidditch, it still sent a rush of thrill though her every time.

The two seekers turned sharply, jerking upwards. By now, the tip of Harry's broom was only an inch behind the tip of Draco's, the golden object flittering half a meter in front of them, just out of arms reach.

"Aw come on Potter," Draco urged on, "you can do better than that."

Harry looked at him through the corner of his eyes. "Why don't you keep your eyes on the snitch alright?" he returned, good naturedly.

Draco shook his head and urged forwards. Now, they were flying parallel to the ground. He stared straight ahead, blocking out the cheers and screams, focusing only on the snitch ahead of him. He _needed _this game. He _needed _to win this game. He pushed forwards, knowing Harry was right beside him. He could taste the victory almost. And merlin, he wanted it.

He didn't know what happened after that. All he heard was a scream. Her scream. Undeniably her scream. "Harry! Oh my god, Harry!" Right above him. In the stands right above him.

And then more screams and gasps. And he knew something was wrong.

So he looked beside him frantically. Half his mind told him to pull away, grab the snitch while he had the chance.

But then he saw Harry, just as the boy toppled off his broom. The turbulence shook him, as he pulled abruptly to a halt, reaching his hand out in an attempt to catch the other seeker. He almost flew off his own broom. He heard the snitch fly away, and cursed. "Damnit."

It stunned him for a moment, watching, realizing he was too late.

"Draco Malfoy knocked Harry Potter off his broom!" the announcer shrieked. But Draco didn't hear. He kicked his broom forwards, diving down. Maybe, just maybe, he could catch Harry. Or at least break his fall a bit. Or do something at least.

But he couldn't catch up in time. Nor could any other player. They could only watch as he landed, with a bone crunching noise. Draco grimaced. That ought to hurt.

He landed beside the crowd of people surrounding the boy on the ground. Jumping off his broom, he ran over. Suddenly, the sounds came rushing back. The displeased crowd around him.

He wanted to yell 'shut up'.

"What are you doing here?!"

He looked back down from the stands, to see Madame Hooch standing in front of him.

"I didn't…," Draco stuttered. "He…what happened?!"

She blew her whistle, and Draco fought the urge to cover his ears. "Game resumed!" she roared. "get out!" Draco watched as Madame Pomfrey and a few other teachers lifted the unconscious Harry out of the pitch.

"I didn't knock him.." Draco said suddenly, hearing cries of protests from the Gryffindors above him. "Shut up," he roared, angrily.

"Son, I know," Madame Hooch replied.

"I mean…not that I care.." Draco began, staring off at the boy behind lifted away, "will he be okay?" Draco asked suddenly, queasy at the thought. He didn't like the guy, but he didn't want him dead either. He cringed.

"Not the worst I've seen. Now what you need to do, is get up there, catch the snitch, and end the game. You're the only seeker left, and if the game doesn't end, nobody's going anywhere."

Draco remained still.

"Do I _need _to tell you twice?"

* * *

They won the game. Obviously. The Gryffindor players were too disheartened to play well. And it wouldn't have made a difference anyways. Draco easily caught the snitch, minutes after, and the game had ended. Slytherin, 250, Gryffindor, 90.

He had won. And he didn't taste the goddamn victory.

"Draco Malfoy!" Her voice shook and she _hated _it.

"What?" he asked, knowing her voice. His tone was harsh. "What?" he repeated, gentler this time, hearing the stutter in her words. She was upset.

"You didn't have to knock Harry off his broom!"

He whirled around. "What are you _saying? _" he growled.

Hermione's face darkened. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Why did you knock him off?!" she shrieked. She looked like a mess, cheeks and nose red from the winds outside, her hair blown astray, and tear marks running down her cheeks.

Hermione wasn't one to cry. She hated crying. She hated cry-ers. But when she saw Harry like that…all twisted up and broken, the tears just came. She sniffled.

He softened, ever so slightly. Angry as he was that she was accusing him, he figured she was only caring for her friend. He could, he suppose, understand that.

"They won't let me go in!" she screamed at him, her hands curling into fists, tears turning into anger. Well that explained why she was here. "Why did you do it?! You were ahead! What? You couldn't play _fair _for once in your life?" she sneered.

His nostrils flared and he looked away. "You're angry. You're saying things. But Granger," he said calmly, forcing himself to curb his anger, "I didn't do it."

"No!" she shrieked. "You did! I _saw _it! You knocked Harry off his broom. And now he's in the hospital wing!"

"Merlin's sake woman, you're stubborn. I didn't do it alright." He turned to walk away, not wanting to deal with a hysteric Hermione. He doubted she'd cry on his shoulder, but he would rather not take that chance.

"Don't walk away you bastard! You did," she accused, her eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. And right after, you went back out and caught the stupid snitch! How could you even _bear _to do that?!"

"It would end the game! Or we'd still be out there playing!" He sneered. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

She shook her head, unwilling to listen to his reasoning. "I can't believe you," she cried, shaking her head frantically. "I can't _believe _you did this!"

"I thought you would know by now that I'm not that type of person." Hurt seeped into him, but he forced it away. His brows furrowed. He shouldn't feel hurt by this. He glared at her. "I thought _you _of all people, should know better," he gritted out.

Hermione frowned. He pushed past her and walked away, bumping her, causing her to stumble a few steps back. "Get out of my way," he paused, the word unwilling to come out. He forced it out, to spite her, to hurt her like she hurt him. "Mudblood."

The word hurt. The word hurt too much. And it made her wonder…why did it hurt more than usual? Was it because he hadn't said it in so long, that she simply wasn't prepared for it anymore? Or because it meant that their pseudo-friendship—if that was what you could call it—was really nothing?

But didn't she insist it was nothing.

"Damn you Granger," he hissed under his breath as he stormed away, angry….and hurt.

And then she remembered his words_. I thought you would know by now that I'm not that type of person._ She almost laughed at the irony of it. "Nobody knows what type of person you are Malfoy," she mumbled, watching him walk away, confusion clouding her mind. "Nobody _knows _you. All I know is that you make me feel things sometimes, I shouldn't." She shook her head. She didn't have time for this. She really didn't want to believe he did it. She really wanted to believe the person she thought he was.

But maybe she was wrong. And, oh, she hated to be wrong, she thought, watching him walk away, shoulders slumped.

**A/N: Title, of coursse, Katy Perry.**

**Cause you're hot and you're cold, you're yes then you're no. You're in then you're out, you're up then you're down. La La La.**

**Just to clarify, not sure if you got it or not, but Harry and Ron know that Hermione and Draco walk back together. They really believe they don't have a friendship going on at all, so they're not too angry about it. **

**And hermione believes that a bit as well, she doesn't like him as more. Just, sometimes you sorta are like, wow, he's cute, but that doesn't mean you like him type of thing.**

**:) I hope you liked it.**

**REVIEW? –too fast? Too slow? Draco's too nice. Hermione's feelings too unclear (it will clear up later)**


	9. Sticks and Stones May Break My Nose

****

Sticks and Stones May Break My Nose But Words Will Never Hurt Me

She should have punched him. She really should have punched him. She wished she did. She clenched her fists.

"Miss Granger, are you done already?" the Professor Berry asked, pleasantly surprised.

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. Realizing what she was doing, she forcefully unclenched her fists. "No sir," she mumbled, glancing at her blank parchment quickly. "Not yet."

The professor nodded from his seat, and Hermione made a show of picking up her quill, scribbling blankly on the page. She just couldn't work. Not when Harry's condition was still unknown. You would expect, six years of accidents and times in the hospital wings, she would get used to it, but it still made her nervous every time. Life was too fragile. Friends were too precious. War had taught them all that.

And not to mention the fact that she felt the immense weight of guilt. How could she have ever thought Draco Malfoy to be harmless? She should have known! And although she knew it wouldn't have made much of a difference, she felt like she should have listened to her friends. How could he do it? How could she have mistaken him?

She sighed, running her hand through her hair, the other rubbing her tired eyes. She let go of her quill. She wasn't planning to write anything anyways. She dropped her head onto one of her hands, the other tapping the table impatiently.

When would this be over? She just wanted to go visit Harry!

She scanned the room dully, her mind conflicted with thoughts. Catching the look on the professor's face, she sighed again and picked up her quill again.

Well, she thought to herself with a mental shrug, it couldn't hurt to calculate whether Harry would make it through.

_H A R R Y J A M E S P O T T E R_

_8 1 8 8 7 1 1 4 5 1 7 6 2 2 5 8_

_=74_

_=11_

_=2_

She paused before analyzing his number and threw down her quill, frustrated all of a sudden. There was no point in this!

Everytime Harry or Ron got hurt, she would get anxious. And every time she would try to use arithmancy to predict their health. And every time it would say the same thing. She knew what it would say without doing it. They would be healthy. Perfectly fine. But what about the day that a fatal injury actually occurred?! Then they _wouldn't _be healthy. They wouldn't be fine. And the damn number would be the exact same!

She just hated feeling helpless. And she hated being wrong about people.

Two birds with one stone.

* * *

She headed for the door to her next class, History of Magic. She just wanted to get it over with, and see if there was any change with Harry's condition during break. With that thought in mind, she spurred ahead, unfortunately, not seeing the other person stepping in the door at the same time.

They got stuck.

She looked up, preparing to apologize out of reaction. "Sorr—" Until she saw who it was. Her face darkened. "Nevermind," she said sourly.

"You're in my way," Draco stated calmly, not a tint of emotion in his guarded voice as he observed her, waiting to see what she still thought of yesterday.

In some buried corner of his mind, he had perhaps hoped that she had believed him. He sneered. What did he think? Granger would always see things her way. She would always put the two fools first.

"Just screw off," she snapped, proving his thoughts correct, quickly dissolving his collected manner. She pushed through.

Except, he, not wanting to spend another moment with her after her confirmation, pushed ahead roughly as well, causing them both to stumble out of the doorway unbalanced.

He turned to look at her, to see if she was okay, but she had already stormed over towards her seat, pointedly ignoring him.

He, imitating her, stormed to his seat as well. "Snotbrain!" he heard her mutter as he passed.

He paused. He wanted to make her hurt. Because she hurt him. That was the way he saw it. "How articulate Granger," he drawled, placing his elbows on her desk, standing a row below her. "Snotbrian," he tasted the word. "I guess I'll just have to respond with 'poopbrain'," he said condescendingly.

She stared at him for a moment. Didn't he feel any _regret _at all?

"Not if I didn't actually _do _anything," he answered meanly.

Had she said it out loud? She suddenly remembered he was still standing there, returning her glare angrily. She pushed his elbows off her desk, causing him to fall forward slightly.

"If I were you," she hissed. "I'd die."

Draco rolled his eyes and was about to respond when she continued. "Oh but wait," she said, acting as if she had had a revelation, "If I were you, I wouldn't have the moral capacity to kill myself!" She smirked derisively, and turned away, watching Ron approach, red faced.

"What is he doing here?!" Ron asked, nearing the two. "Don't tell me you're still talking to him Hermy!"

Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco interrupted.

"She's not. Not anymore," he bit harshly, before turning on his heel and briskly walking off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, even before Draco was out of earshot, clearly not caring. "You're not talking to him?"

Hermione shrugged, slamming her back onto her desk with a resounding noise. "Whatever he said," she answered, peeved, staring ponderously at Draco with her lips pursed in a grim line. What, indeed, did he mean?

And _why _did she care? He was the one who wronged, she reminded herself. With that answer satisfying her, her anger replaced her curiosity once again. She dropped herself on her chair and threw her bag on the ground.

As class began, she was glaring at Draco so vehemently that he could feel holes burning at the back of his head. He lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his head inconspicuously just to make sure she actually wasn't attempting to burn his head—which was entirely possible.

"So I assume all of you did your reading that I asked last class." At the general nods of the glass, Professor Binns continued, pacing the floor with his stout frame. He ran his finger through his short white beard. "It shouldn't be a problem then if I ask you who created the spell we'll be learning today?"

Most of the class looked away.

"Miss Granger then?" he asked, seeing her attention elsewhere. "Miss Granger."

Ron nudged her side, and her attention snapped to the professor, blush colouring her cheeks as she took a break from glaring. "W-what?"

"The one time the bookworm can't answer the question, the prof picks her," Draco snickered loudly, causing chuckles all around him. "Binns probably picked her 'cause she didn't have her hands waving in the air like a maniac for the first time. He's more perceptive than I gave him credit for. " More chuckles resounded, and Proffessor Binns looked to that side of the room curiosly, before returning his gaze to Hermione expectantly.

But she was too distracted. She could hear perfectly well what Draco was saying, and he knew it.

He continued. "I guess she won't be teacher's pet anymore. She must be crying inside," he said cruelly, looking her way. "Life's a bitch ain't it."

She bristled. "The revival spell," she said, answering the question without taking her eyes off Draco. "Created by Grindelwald," she added, merely to show off.

Draco snorted. "Of course," he said loudly. "Suck up."

Hermione turned towards Professor Binns. "But Ma--Draco was telling me _all _about it the other day," she said, her words injected with false sweetmess, "you should ask him about it. He simply _adores _the revival method. Knows _everything _there is to know about it." Draco sent a dirty look at her, which she ignored easily. "You should ask him about it," she smiled.

"Is this true Draco?" Professor Binns asked, turning towards Draco.

"Definitely," Hermione interjected. Under her breath so that he could hear, she murmured, "No, karma's the bitch."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Um actually," he stuttered, "it-it was the renewal method I particularly admired. I admit I know very little about the revival method." He bowed his head slightly, to further his explanation.

Professor Binns seemed to accept this, and moved on. "Pity," he murmured. "Well class, turn to chapter 12."

For the rest of the lesson, Hermione pointedly ignored Draco. As individual work began, she turned to Ron. "Are we visiting Harry after this?" she asked anxiously.

Ron exhaled. "He's alright Hermione. Don't worry," he murmured soothingly, pausing from flicking paper balls at the Slytherins along with Seamus in front of them.

"Don't don't worry me Ronald! Our best friend is unconscious and—" she began, indignant.

"Okay, okay, we'll go after class." He cheered softly as one wad hit Draco on the back of the head, and quickly turned away, whistling lowly as Draco turned and searched for the conspirator.

She blew out a breath. "I just need to get my books first. Come with?" she asked softly, ignoring Draco, who had determined it had been her. As if she would be so immature. She preferred to fight with words, or real magic.

Ron, suddenly perceptive, turned towards her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and squeezed gently. "He's _okay _Hermione. Harry's always okay. Draco can't do him in that easily," he attempted to joke. Down below, Draco scowled at the friendly hug, and turned away. "You didn't get any sleep did you?" Ron continued, his voice low.

Hermione shook her head, allowing her friend to comfort her.

Draco's voice interrupted. "Granger, Weasley, get a room."

"Not that we're doing anything ferret, but most people don't own those type of 'rooms'." She paused. "Because most people don't need to 'get a room' every time they touch someone of the opposite gender. You're not most people of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he implored, turning towards them.

"It means that you and you're uncontrollable pe--"

He cut in before she could continue, the image disturbing him. "Nobody wants to see you and Weasley getting it on alright?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, grow up. Nobody's 'getting it on'." She turned to Ron. "Let's ignore him." She returned to their earlier topic. "And I'm okay," she said quietly.

"You always worry too much," Ron said with a small smile.

Hermione smiled back, feeling slightly better. "If you dare call me motherly," she warned, leaving it hanging. Draco huffed, feeling ignored, and turned away.

Ron dropped his hands from her shoulders and lifted them in the air in mock surrender. "Never!" he protested with a weak laugh. Hermione chuckled. Ron, satisfied that he had made her feel better, let his hands fall to his desk. "We'll go after class, make sure he's okay, and then you'll sleep tonight better alright?"

Hermione paused. "Yeah," she said slowly. "He'll be alright," she mumbled, believing herself for the first time, feeling some relief sink into her. There was a reason Ron was one of her best friends.

He smiled, and she smiled back, if only to please him. She wouldn't be relieved fully until she saw Harry on the mend.

* * *

"_Hurry _Ron!" huffed Hermione impatiently as she sped through the crowded hallway towards the hospital wing on the fourth floor of the clock tower. She checked her watch. "We only have 15 minutes!"

"Only!" Ron called, jogging to catch up to her. "It's not like we're going to be staring at an unconscious person for 15 minutes!"

Her frown marred her face. He bit his lip. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. He was relieved when she snapped back. He liked angry Hermione better than sad Hermione, he discovered.

"10 minutes since we have to rush to Charms after! _And, _he'll be awake! So get moving!" She flew up the steps without another word, and Ron hurried after.

Right before she turned the corner to the hall with the hospital wing, she turned around. "RON!" she called, not seeing the boy.

"Just go on without me!" he panted. "Bloody—"

Hermione ignored the string of curses and shrugged, heeding his advice. She turned the corner without looking, and bumped into a wall.

Or a chest. There wasn't much difference according to her head, as it hurt just as much. She fell back, just as a hand caught her around the waist.

She looked up to see stormy grey eyes. She gulped. She had never noticed them before. But up close, they weren't so emotionless as she had perceived. Rather the opposite really. She let her eyes wander. His mouth, tempting as it was, was pulled taught. Not in anger, or in disappointment, or anything really.

Draco stared at the girl he held below him, her curly brown hair falling into her eyes. He had such an urge to push them away, to give him a clearer view of her eyes. She really _could _be pretty if she tried. Her button nose was dusted lightly with freckles, and we wondered how many there were. The rest of her skin was as smooth as silk, and he resisted the urge to drag his knuckles across them, just to see if his eyes were deceiving him. And the lips that spat out more harsh words than any other looked so innocent at that moment. Kissable even. And then, all the pieces put together in his head. The hair, the eyes, the lips. Hermione Granger. What the hell? And without thinking, he accidentally let go.

Then, the hand promptly fell out from under her, causing her to tumble to the ground, snapping her and him out of their respective trances.

"What the _hell?_" she screeched, repeating his earlier words.

He gulped. That was his fault. But he refused to let it show. "Oops," he said unconvincingly. As repayment though, he even offered his hand.

She ignored it, scrambling up with her brows furrowed. She dusted off her pants. "I don't need your help."

He let his hand drop, stung. "What?" he bit back angrily, towering over her, leaning forward menacingly. "Is it because I might _push _you down?" referring to her accusations about pushing Harry off his broom.

She ignored the insinuation. "I _hate _you."

"Not as much as I hate _you,_" he chided childishly.

She shrugged. "What are you doing here even?" she asked, crossing her arms, taking a step back.

He looked back to the hospital wing, where he had just been. He had wanted to check if Potter was awake yet, to see if the boy was okay. He wasn't. Awake that was. But Madame Pompfrey had assured there had been no major injuries.

Just a few broken bones, and a whole lot of bruises.

But he wasn't about to tell _her _that. She wouldn't believe him anyways, he knew.

He shrugged. "Do you really care?" he challenged. It was always easier to avoid by asking more questions.

Unfortunately, that trick didn't work with her. "No, but I want to know," she answered simply.

He shrugged. "And I don't want to tell you."

"So we've reached an impasse."

He smirked. "So we have. I'm not letting up, are you?"

"No."

He raised his eyebrow, acting amused. "Well, then it really is an impasse."

She moved to the left, but he did too, blocking her path. She moved right. He did too.

"Bugger off you git!" She pushed him, but he never moved back an inch.

He tutted, acting as if she were a misbehaving child. "Referring to physical violence now?"

Peeved, she stepped back. She looked at her watch. "Damn, 10 minutes! _What are you doing here? _" she growled.

He sneered. "Not lying in a hospital bed, unconscious."

Her mouth popped open. "Why you insensitive, heartless, cruel, moral-less, stupid, useless, foul, disgusting little creature!"

"I'm impressed with you study of the thesaurus," he returned, uncaringly.

She simmered. "Take it back!"

"No."

"TAKE IT BACK!" she yelled, stepping forward, her hand on her wand.

"No," he said, challenging her, "and what are you going to do—"

She had half a mind to hex him, but thought better of it. Instead, she drew her other hand back, and without a second thought, punched him squarely on the nose.

And as he hurtled forwards, nursing his nose, Hermione could only conclude that it felt good. It felt bloody great.

**A/N: Anger management classes anyone? Why harry fell will be explained next chappy. Don't worry.**

**NEXT CHAP. A little resolution. A little resentment. And….a little more?**

**Sorry, not YET for the little more. But I promise you soon! BEAR WITH ME. It will heat up soon. Within the next three! I promise. PINKY PROMISE. Maybe next two chapter, depending on how far I get with each! **

**REVIEW. PLEASE AND THANKS. **

**ALSO. I hate like saying..i need a certain amount of reviews before i update a new chapter, because i don't think its fair to those who _do_ review(THANKS BTW) so I'm not going to do that. NO matter what, as long as I can, I'll update in a week latest. But, reviews truly give me incentive to start writing the next chapter. And once I start, I usually finish the chapter the same day. ANd after the chapter is finished, I hate letting it rot in 'document manager' so I end up updating.**

**So please, please, review. Trust me ahaha. P. S. hint hint, I was on such a roll after this chapter that I started number 9. LALALA. :)**


	10. Who's the Real Bitch? Truth

**Who's the Real Bitch? Truth**

"How did this happen?" Madame Pomfrey asked, rushing from one cabinet to another, grabbing countless bottles and vials. It was a wonder she could carry it all.

Hermione managed to get into the hospital wing finally. Except not on the pretences she had been expecting. She wasn't a visitor. She was a patient. And so was the git beside her.

Either her bones had grown weaker, or his nose had grown stronger.

Because she certainly hadn't cracked a bone in her knuckle last time she punched him.

Madame Pomfrey tended to Draco first, seeing as his broken nose deserved slightly more attention. She fussed around him, as Draco grimaced in pain, shooting daggers at both the females in the room with his eyes. Finally, fed up, she grabbed his chin and held his head still. "There, now," she murmured, reaching over while still holding his head to grab a potion. "Drink this."

"As if," he scoffed.

"Open up," Madame Pompfrey demanded, used to disobedient patients.

"Nev—" but as he opened his mouth to speak, she had already tipped the vile liquid in his mouth. He sputtered, but swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the taste.

"Good," the nurse murmured, extracting the empty vial. He spat out the remnants. "That should ease the pain a bit. Now to fix it. Tilt your head back dearie," he voice gentle once again, a stark contrast to her intimidating tone just seconds ago.

He complied, and she pointed her wand at his noise, murmuring a quick spell. A shot of pain ran through his noise to his head and he bit back a yell. "Damn," he cursed, under his breath, his eyes briefly wetting. He grabbed the sides of the bed. "For the love of—"

Hermione cringed as she heard a loud 'snap' signalling the bone was back in place. Perhaps…a punch was too harsh. In her defence, she really didn't think she could actually break his noise for merlin's sake!

Hermione watched as the nurse conjured a back of ice wrapped in cloth and handed it to Draco, who immediately brought it to the bridge of his nose. Madame Pompfrey then conjured about 5 pillows, stacking them at the head of his bed, and made a motion which Draco followed. He lay on the pillows, allowing his body to be semi-upright to reduce swelling.

Then, Madame Pompfrey rounded up on her, speaking to the both of them as she did.

"Well, how did this happen then?"

Draco and Hermione shared a look.

Draco coughed, grimacing as the action shook his injury. "I tripped," he murmured.

Madame Pompfrey turned to him with raised eyebrows and he shrugged easily, groaning. "Very well then," she managed, displeased with the obvious lie. "And you miss Granger," she stared at her quizically.

"Do I have to drink that…thing?" Hermione only managed, her face pale.

Madame Pompfrey chuckled, forgetting her earlier question. "Depends on how bad this is honey," she said, referring to the hand. She took out her wand, examining Hermione's left hand. "Incomplete, simple fracture," she finally concluded.

Hermione waited, anticipating an answer eagerly and worriedly.

"No potion," the nurse said.

"Not fair!" Draco mumbled, on his side.

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed. "Thank you thank you!" she added, to the nurse.

She laughed. "Alright, let's just put you into a cast. 2 weeks should be sufficient. Every three days, come in and we'll change the cast. Try to move this hand as little as possible alright dear?"

Hermione nodded fervently, a smile on her face. She watched as a piece of cloth wrapped itself around her hand, commanded by the nurse's wand. Then, as it was set in place, the cloth hardened. She tapped the cast, amazed.

"All done, but you may stay for the next period if you like. Draco, I suggest you stay."

Draco nodded, himself dozing asleep slightly. He hadn't planned on returning to class anyways. Flitwick always liked Gryffindors better. It was no fun.

"Do you think I could…" he heard Hermione ask. He could imagine her gesturing towards Harry. He supposed he was right, because a second later, he heard her shuffling off the bed.

"Oh is he going to be okay?" she asked softly.

"He's going to be perfectly fine, he woke up a little earlier today."

At this, Hermione brightened considerably. "Oh did he?!" she asked, her voice excited. She didn't wait for a response. "Oh I'm so relieved."

"Actually, the potion I gave him should be wearing off just about now. He should wake soon. It's time for another dose of Skele-Gro."

This alarmed Hermione. "Skele-Gro?! But..he didn't _lose _any bones.."

"No but his wrist was practically shattered dear. Worst of his injuries though. I removed all the fragments, and now he has to grow the bones back in."

"Oh," Hermione muttered. "Harry's going to hate it."

"Most people do. Ah, he's waking. I'll let you talk then. I must attend the potions…" she began, as she walked off.

Hermione grabbed Harry's good hand. "Hey? You awake?"

He squeezed her hand. "Hermione?" he squinted.

He struggled to get up, but she laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Don't. You're hurt."

He chuckled, coughing a bit as he did. "Let me guess. You didn't sleep. Worried like a mother hen. And the teachers got so fed up they just sent you here."

Hermione snorted. "As if you're that important," she lied.

He detected it easily, not that she was hiding it. "Hey, you know I always get better. Don't worry. Hey, what happened?" he asked, catching sight of the cast.

"Er…" she looked away. "Punched Malfoy," she mumbled, quietly.

Harry strained to hear. "What?"

She coughed. "Punched Malfoy?"

"You punched someone?!" he asked, dazed, not quite hearing the ending. "Last time you did that was third year. Poor Malfoy. So who's the poor soul this time? I bet it's Ron. 'bou time really—"

"Malfoy."

Harry stopped his rant, catching sight of the boy lying in the bed opposite him. "Two times in a row. Poor soul," Harry mourned.

"He's not a poor soul," Hermione defied. "Look what he did to you?"

Harry looked at her weirdly. "What did he do to me?"

She frowned. "Put you in the hospital wing, he did!"

"But…I'm here cause I fell off my broom…."

"Do you not remember it at all?" Hermione asked, worry seeping into her voice. "Maybe you have amnesia…" she mumbled to herself.

"Hermione…what are you _talking _about?"

"Well, he pushed you!" she declared, as if it were the most obvious thing.

Harry's frowned deepened.

"Oh," Hermione mumbled quietly, observing the look he sent her. "I don't like that look."

He didn't speak for a moment.

Hermione read the look correctly. "He didn't push you did he?" she asked quietly, biting her lip.

Slowly, he shook his head. "I distinctly remember trying to catch the snitch. I was late that day, and couldn't find my new gloves. So I wore my training ones, but they were a little worn. Not as much grip you see. Plus, it was my fault. I was trying to catch the snitch, forgetting everything else. Just wanted to win the game y'know," he chuckled. He stopped seeing her frown, and hurriedly continued. "First game and all. Everyone knows that if you hit turbulence in the air, you have to tip your broom downwards to avoid it, or it's easy to loose control. But I was just so close to getting it. And I knew Malfoy would tip down, which would give me an advantage. So I tried."

"HARRY!"

He scowled. "Hey, I had to take one for the team."

"You deserve the Skele-Gro," she declared, crossing her arms, grimacing as she momentarily forgot about her fracture.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he frowned. "Stupid thing to do eh? I suppose we lost."

"Very stupid! And yes, we did lose. Apparently, Malfoy _had _to catch the snitch or the game wouldn't end."

"Oh yeah. He would've had to. Damn, I would have liked a win."

"So…he actually had to?" Hermione asked, hesitantly, scared of the answer.

"Of course. Basic rules of quidditch. I thought you knew all rules Hermione," he joked. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her disturbed frown.

She leaned forwards. In a hushed tone, she whispered. "Everyone thinks he pushed you."

"Ah."

Hermione leaned back. Harry looked at her pointedly.

"He pushed you!"

"I think I would know if he did."

She paused.

"What?" she asked, annoyed at his look. She sighed. "Fine," she muttered, standing up. She walked over to where Draco was.

"Er….Malfoy…..um…I-I shouldn't have…" she paused, noticing that he hadn't given her any harsh words yet. That was weird. She looked up, just in time to see the ice bag falling down. She caught it with her good hand, and leaned over, peering at his closed eyes and listening to his quiet snore.

She looked back self-consciously, to see the weary Harry asleep as well. She sighed, and settled herself on the empty space beside him on the bed. She held the ice bag up to his noise, pressing softly, feeling immensely guilty as he winced slightly in his sleep. He hadn't deserved it. "Sorry," she murmured quietly, when she was sure he couldn't hear.

* * *

Draco welt warmth tingling on his skin—tickling him. He twitched his nose, trying to get the feeling to go away, but it didn't. Slowly, he forced his eyes open. As his vision cleared, he noticed strands of brown hair dusting his face. He frowned and looked up.

"What the _hell _are you doing on my bed Granger?" he shouted menacingly.

Startled, she jumped, her precariously balanced seating position causing her to tumble backwards, falling onto her bottom on the ground. "Ow, my arm!" she shrieked, below him on the ground beside the bed.

As she fell, the hand holding up his ice pack let go, causing the chunk of ice to drop heavily onto his stomach. "Oof," he coughed.

"What was that for?"

"You were _on _my bed," he growled, picking up the ice pack and dropping it onto the ground on his other side.

"Sitting on the edge," she muttered, pointedly trying to cause his grief for her current pain. She pushed herself up, and returned to her own bed, nursing her casted arm.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, what gave you permission to come onto _my _bed?" He winced as a rush of pain slammed into his head, and he winced, bring his hand to his nose.

The nasty comment at the tip of her tongue instantly melted, replaced with guilt. "Are you okay?"

He scoffed, and glared. "Am I supposed to think you care?"

"What makes you think I don't?" she challenged, standing up beside him now.

"The fact that _you _did this to me?" he retorted, not looking at her. She bit her lip.

"Oh."

A silence ensued, and Hermione debated whether to stay beside him, or to return to her bed. She contemplated for a moment, and noticed that his hand was still at his nose, and his expression was grim and painful. She sighed, and walked around his bed, bending down and picking up his ice pack with her good hand. She handed it to him. "Here, you probably need this."

He snatched it from her, and refused to thank her, or even acknowledge that he had been regretting throwing the ice pack to the ground. He didn't understand her. Why was she helping him now? He discreetly glanced at her. And why was she nervous, he wondered. He knew she was nervous by the way she fidgeted with her hands, and bit her lip.

"Look," she began. "I..I..I would like to apologize?"

"For breaking my nose?" he questioned bitterly. "You better be sorry."

She chuckled nervously, but he could tell it was forced. "That..among other things."

This intrigued him, and he turned to her. "What other things?"

She didn't answer, knowing he could well figure it out by himself. And figure out he did, with just a quick glance at Harry.

"Potter woke up then I suppose? While I was asleep?" he asked, almost mockingly. He already knew the answer.

She nodded tersely.

"I suppose he claimed my innocence," he pondered aloud. He paused, but wasn't expecting an answer. He knew it was what happened. It was the only way to explain her sudden change in behaviour towards him. But he hated it. He hated the fact that it took Potter to prove his innocence. He hated her for not believing in him.

Because the least she could've done was hear him out. The least she could have done was put a little faith in him. He knew he wasn't the most loyal of people. Or the most kind. But he had been nothing if not harmless to her—hell, he had even been remotely friendly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione bit out, but not matter how short the apology was, he could hear the regret in her voice.

And he hated her more. He snarled. "Hand Granger a bone, god forbid, an apology to a Malfoy!"

She winced visibly. "You don't need to be mean," she accused softly.

"Actually," he said, turning to her, "I do. Because I'm a mean person. Because I'm an evil person…"

"You're not!" she protested.

"Oh, but I am! I am cruel, and heartless—" He was saying the descriptions she had accused him of being when she had been angry with him.

"I forbid you to say that!" she exclaimed, cutting him off.

He was about to ask her what right did she have to _forbid _him to do something, when she continued. "You're not any of those things," she said.

"Ah, on the contrary, according to you, I'm exactly those things."

"You're not," she denied firmly. And for the first time, truly realized it in her mind. He was _not _evil, or cruel, or heartless. Mean, thought, she would never deny.

He smiled, cruelly. "You seemed to forget that a while back then."

Hermione knew it was coming. She was helpless to any other words. "I'm sorry."

He wanted to make her hurt. And he knew the best way was through her own guilt. Long ago, he had learned to manipulate people's weaknesses against them, and Hermione's, he knew, was her conscience. "You know," he began, speaking truthfully, "I wouldn't care if ninety percent of the people in this school believed I pushed Potter. A few years ago, I probably would have even." He watched Hermione purse her lips, fighting to comment on his admission. "But there were some people I believed would believe I was innocent."

Hermione grimaced. He was right. He was right. She hung her head.

"I should have—" she began, regretfully.

He raised his hand to stop her. "Frankly, Granger, I don't care. I admit, you were one of those people. However, it doesn't matter anymore."

"It does!" she protested, hating that she had lost his trust.

"You hold yourself in too high an opinion if you believe that then. Really, you were never my favourite person." He ignored the short flicker of pain he noticed in her eyes. He didn't care, he reminded himself. "Actually, I hate many things about you," he added, satisfying himself as another flicker of pain shined through. She reeled her emotions in quickly though, seeming to realize her vulnerability and his ability to read it. Her eyes returned to their blank expression, and her back straightened. She raised her chin. He wanted to knock her down. "I hate your hair," he stated first, listing of his fingers, "of course, it's the most obvious one."

"I hate your lack of trust in people. I hate that you believe you're right all the time. I hate that you have to show people that you're right. I hate that you try to prove yourself all the time. I hate that you stick to rules, you have no imagination, you boss—"

"I don't need to hear it," she said calmly.

He smirked. "I hate—"

There was a knock on the door. Both awake parties turned to look. Katherine poked her head through. "Oh, Draco you're awake! I thought I heard your voice." She hurried in.

Hermione stiffened, turning quickly to Draco. "Maybe it was good that this happened then. Now you don't have to force yourself to be civil towards me anymore."

"Nor you towards me then, Granger."

It escaped her notice that although she had acknowledged their return to their old ways, he hadn't let the degrading word, mudblood, slip his lips once again. Instead, she merely turned around and headed out of the hospital wing.

Draco, from his seat, allowed Katherine to softly kiss his lips, denying her any more than that. His mind was elsewhere.

He might have listed the many things he hated about her. But he had also not listed the many he liked. He found that he simply didn't hate her any longer. He couldn't.

**A/N: Thanks for wiaitng it out! SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE.**

**ANYWAYS, guess what? I'm going to turn 16 soon! :) 3 more days in fact!**

**However, that means that the earliest I'm going to be able to write again is Monday, which means no update until ATLEAST Tuesday. Because its party time:)**

**Review! Thanks all!**


	11. We Could Be Lovers

**We Could Be Lovers**

It had been three days since he had been admitted into the hospital wing; two days since Granger and him agreed to disagree, and the first day back to classes for him.

In those two days, Granger hadn't visited once. He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that he cared, or annoyed that she had upheld her part of the bargain so well. Either way, he was annoyed.

But the annoyance soon was replaced by worry, much to his displeasure.

He watched as she twisted around to talk to Michael Harper, the seventh year Hufflepuff, behind her, laughing at something he said. He watched as her mesmerizing pink lips formed quick words, and then a smile as she waited for his response. She shook her head disbelievingly, curls flying into her face. For a brief moment, her chocolate brown eyes darted upwards, but he wasn't sure if he imagined that or not.

Hermione laughed, hearing what Michael said behind her. She turned around laughing. "Then what happened?" she asked. He responded, telling his story.

"Oh, I remember that. But I'm pretty sure you didn't fall trying to save the mouse from Ms. Norris."

"I'm pretty sure I did," he teased.

"So you didn't trip over your own feet and fall, _coincidentally, _scaring Ms. Norris away?" Hermione challenged, as those around her waited for a response.

He huffed, "Well the mouse was saved, and that's the point!"

The rest of them laughed, and he smiled, glad to have been able to extract such a reaction. Hermione took part in the laughter, but didn't actually find it that funny. She let her concentration wander, and wondered what Draco was doing. She hadn't been visiting him, for two main reasons. First, she didn't want to intrude on him and Katherine, and she knew they'd be glued to the hip. And secondly, because she didn't think he wanted her to. That _was _what they agreed on.

But now, he was out of the hospital wing. The only sign of him having injured himself were the occasional grimaces displayed on his face. Her eyes flashed upwards, as it had many times that day, wondering how he was. She longed to talk to him, simply because she had gotten so used to it before, it felt weird _not _talking to him. She didn't expect that. At all.

She also didn't expect him to be staring at her. She darted her eyes away, and hurriedly turned around, dropping her laugh and picking up her quill nervously. She frowned.

Draco looked away as well, not quite as embarrassed or flustered as her. He found that amusing, and couldn't fight the twitch of his lips. No, not quite that, but he was slightly embarrassed nonetheless.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, and found it ticking steadily towards the end of the school day. He twirled his quill between his fingers, contemplating.

_He really shouldn't wait for Granger today. They weren't friends. No, they never were. They weren't even talking though._

He nodded, but then paused. _On the other hand, even missing the walk back two times, he had begun missing it. Her witty retorts, eye rolls, and even…snorts of laughter._

He bit his lip and looked at the clock again, time ticking heedlessly away. He finally decided that he would walk with her on two conditions; if she was expecting him, and so long as he remained perfectly silent, it would be okay. He nodded with newfound resolution.

Soon enough, the ending bell came. He packed up, as did she.

Slowly, the students filtered out. Hermione looked up, unsure whether she was to wait or not. He seemed that way too, as they both slowed their movements, buying time.

Finally, when there were no more objects to place in her back, no more ways to fix her hair, or tie her shoes, she decided to leave. Draco watched, tucking the last chair of his row in, and followed after her.

The only two people remaining were them. As Hermione slipped through the door, she veered to the right, and stood slowing her steps. A second later, he emerged as well. She paused, looking back, opening and closing her mouth, searching for the right words.

"I—"

"See you later Granger," he grunted, after she failed several times to begin.

She closed her mouth. "You're not going back to the common room then?"

He had been planning to, but he figured not now. He shook his head, and stalked away.

* * *

She had given it a lot of thought. And although usually, she would have discussed her problem with Ron or Harry, she figured she had made the right decision. No matter what her prejudices were, or what other's were, it came down to a few basic points.

She had even written it down. She picked up her piece of paper.

_Malfoy wasn't evil_

_Malfoy was a fairly good converser_

_It was fun riling him up, in the not mean and insulting way_

_He could really help her with her grades, much more helpful than both Harry and Ron_

She negated the fact that she fairly liked him as well. Either way, it was enough. It was decided. It was time to put away old feelings.

* * *

She heard him before she saw him. Waiting on the couch patiently, Hermione watched him flash past her, a flurry of movement being the only defining feature.

He swept past the common area without a second thought, and into his room, slamming the door perfunctorily.

Hermione leaned back on the couch and watched the door expectantly. Sure enough, a second later, the door cracked open and he emerged again. The differences from before included the lack of his broom and outer quidditch robes, as well as a curious gaze now on his face.

"Hello," she said good-naturedly.

He left his room tentatively, and stood at the edge of the common area, arms crossed. "What?"

"Sit," she only replied, ignoring his humourless question.

He narrowed his eyes, his expression making her believe that he thought she was crazy at that moment. "I'd prefer to stand," he muttered, but acquiesced anyways, sitting on the couch opposite her.

For a moment, neither talked. Hermione listened to the cackle of the warm fireplace, and contemplated her next words. She knew she would have to talk soon or he would interrupt and leave.

"I don't want to be not civil," she finally sighed. And oddly, she didn't feel nervous, but confident. She trained a steady gaze upon him, even as his face contorted into confusion.

"What did you say?"

"I don't want to be not civil," she repeated slowly.

He waved his hand impatiently. "No, I _know _what you _said," _he muttered. "But what did you mean?"

"We could be friends," she suggested with a shrug, trying to gage his reaction.

Draco remained still for a moment, for the first time, completely speechless as a result of her words. He struggled to grasp the thoughts whirling in his head. The idea was preposterous! They were enemies! They suited each other, challenged each other! They would argue! Arguing wasn't so bad! Was she insane?! Was he insane?! He opted not to voice any of those. Instead, he chose his words carefully.

"That's a….big—" he paused, considering his words, "step. I thought you were still apologizing to me."

"I already apologized. I am sorry." She shrugged, "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No."

She smiled at him, giving him a pointed look. "We could be friends," she reiterated.

"That's a big step."

"It's a step forward," she pointed out.

"We can't be friends."

"We were almost friends before," she accurately said.

"It wouldn't work."

"We never tried."

"It's..

"You're not saying no," she concluded finally.

He shook his head, defeated by her persistence, half amused. "Granger," he said exasperated, "it's not like we can just forget about the past." He smiled. "It's not that simple."

Hermione gave him a look that said, watch me. She made a show of getting up, shuffling to her room, and disappearing behind the closed door. Draco looked on, confused. As she shut her door, he wondered if he had insulted her perhaps. For the first time, he truly hadn't meant to.

Moment past and he considered that she was going to stay in there and that he should probably leave.

Just as he was about to stand, she swept back into the room, walking with determination towards him. She strode up to him confidently and offered her hand. He cocked his head to the side. Her eyes twinkled with mirth and laughter, something he had never seen before. She smiled broadly at him, something that she had never done before—at least to him.

"My name is Hermione Granger."

He dropped his head for a moment, but couldn't resist the smile tugging at his lips. Then a chuckle escaped. And then another. He was thoroughly defeated. How could he say no?

He extended his hand and clasped it around her small ones—their first physical contact perhaps, other than punches. Her smooth skin sent a small tingle down his spine. "My name is Draco Malfoy."

She nodded, still grinning, and released his hand, secretly fearing his touch would break her barriers and affect her. She took a seat on the couch, and shifted over, offering him the seat beside hers this time, instead of opposite her.

Once he accepted the seat, she asked, "Malfoy? As in the _Malfoy's? _"

She was laughing at him. He shook his head, suddenly recalling something he had said at the beginning of his time at Hogwarts. Something that had condemned their antagonistic future with one another. He waited a moment, recalling the exact words.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others," he paused, changing 'Potter' to "Granger. You didn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

She knew he recognized the speech from her shocked expression. Harry, he knew, would have relayed it to her. He continued, changing the last line. "I _can't _help you there."

Her shock slowly transformed to another smile. "I think you _can _help me there…Draco." She waited to see if he accepted her use of his first name. When he didn't reject, she continued. "I may not think your family is better than others, but I think you can be."

He looked at the fireplace awkwardly. "You don't know that."

"I know that you're better than them at least, even by your actions just now," she insisted softly. He looked up. They were closer than he had expected.

He leaned away. "I suppose."

"I know," Hermione said significantly. "But I see I won't convince you like this. So enough with this. Let's talk about something else."

"What can we talk about?" Draco asked, unsure.

Hermione considered, recalling her earlier words._Nobody knows what type of person you are Malfoy. _"I don't really know you Mal—Draco."

He liked the way she said his name. She said it in a way nobody in the past had ever said it. Caringly and concernedly. But then again, he figured she cared about everything and anything.

"There's really nothing interesting about my life," he murmured.

"I don't believe that. How about this, I'll tell you about mine, and then you can tell me about yours after?"

He paused, and found that he really did want to hear about her life, so he agreed.

She told him about when she was born, September 19, 1979, at 6 am. She told him about her parents, both dentists, with a passion for reading. He joked that that was no surprise, and she nudged him in the ribs. What surprised him though, was her admirable yet foolish decision to erase their memories, including all memories of her, and send them to Australia during the war.

"It must have taken a lot of courage."

She laughed, a little sullenly. "It had nothing to do with courage."

Draco sensed that this was a sensitive topic, and let her move on. She told him that she had moved them back this year, and returned their memories, but she knew she could never erase what she had done to them. And although they understood, they could hardly forget it. Ironically.

Draco tried to put himself in her position, but found that he would have been helpless. He wouldn't have been able to do that for his parents. And it made him respect her a little more, albeit grudgingly.

She told him about growing up, about her warm family, full of excitement and love. He was enraptured with every word, her life so different than his own. She told him of her vacations. Of her parents surprising her every year on her birthday, and although she was nearly 18, they still managed to surprise her. She admitted that she felt immensely lonely on her birthday during the war because of that. She told him about her love for ice cream and cookies. The stuffed animal that she slept with at all times. Her trouble growing up, being bullied because she was different. The relief she felt when she discovered that she really _was _different.

"It was partially because I realized that I wasn't just that I was weird. Partially because I found that I wasn't alone. And partically, I was relieved because I truly _was _different." She chuckled. "I just couldn't _stand _being ordinary."

And in return, he told her about his own childhood, although he was much less thorough.

"You probably think I was beaten, and my parents never cared…" he began. Hermione didn't know how to respond to that, and was thankful she didn't have to.

"My parent's cared about me though, just not in the way yours did." He told her about how he never had big parties. Well, he had parties, but not warm, family get togethers. She found the idea mind-boggling. He found it natural. That made the both of them smile.

He told her about how his mother always left small trinkets on his bed when he left upset. He told her how he kept all of them in a box.

"Will you show me?" she asked eagerly, not thinking about boundaries.

He scowled, and shook his head. He told her about his father's mood swings. How sometimes he could be the best father in the world, and sometimes…the worst. He told her he didn't particularly like ice cream, but preferred popsicles. "Less work," he explained, "you don't need to scoop, or get a bowl and spoon."

But he admitted cookies were good. Especially chocolate chip, to which Hermione agreed.

He told her about his love for quidditch, the joy he felt on the field. He told her about his life at Hogwarts, because he thought she would really love to hear it. She did. She examined every detail, and immersed herself in his words.

This encouragement prodded him to continue. He had never opened up so much in his life, yet he found it wasn't such a bad feeling.

"It feels like we're rushing all this stuff. Aren't you supposed to gradually learn more about your…friends," he stuttered at the last word.

She smiled. "Well, we've got 6 years to make up."

He nodded demurely. "I suppose."

She yawned, and t hen blushed. "I'm sorry."

He looked at the clock. "Nah," he said, surprised himself at the time. "It's really late. We should get to bed."

Hermione's eyes widened at the time. How did it go by so fast? "Yeah." She followed his lead and stood up, stretching her back.

Draco turned first, heading back to his room. He turned back. "Hey Granger."

She looked up, waiting for him to continue.

"Er..thanks."

She smiled. "No problem, _Draco."_

He took her hint. "Goodnight…Hermione."

"Hey Malfoy. Draco. In our new friendship, I think I should tell you…maybe…"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should take a shower first," she laughed, holding her fingers to pinch her nose. "You smell."

He scowled, but inside, he was glad that some things didn't change.

**A/N: SO hello! I rushed this and finished JUST NOW! :) I really like the idea of this chapter, its one of the most cliche, yet lovely ideas. It's one of my fave chaps.**

**ALso, the title is from a song : All you need is love - Moulin Rouge. I love it. :)**

**I was also looking at story stats, and the number of reads, and its really LOW! I noticed that also, updates from other authors have been low too. maybe everyones at like LJ cause of the dramion awards and fic exchange stuff. Who knows. It's weird. Anyone else see this?**

**Anyways, thanks for birthday wishes. I had a blast. 16 doesn't feel that different ahah. ANYWAYS, I signed up for LiveJournal recently, to participate in the dmhgexchange, so if you guys wanna add me, its jodylips. Other than that. PEACE OUT! **

**REVIEW!**


	12. I Am What I Am

**I Am What I Am**

If Hermione thought that being friends with him would allow him to reveal his kind, inner self—she was in for disappointment, Draco considered. Truly because he didn't think he _had _such a thing.

He was therefore surprised when she seemed perfectly happy dealing with the mostly irritable, occasionally kind Draco.

Currently, she was on her knees on the floor, hand resting on her stomach, eyes squeezed shut as she bent over in laughter. He reflected that she was probably the only person in this entire school who he allowed to laugh at him like this—as she was doing exactly at this moment. Any other person, and he would have already snapped. But he supposed it was the kind of friendship they had. She laughed again, and struggled for breath, leaving Draco wondering what on earth she found so funny. He voiced his pondering.

She shook her head helplessly and extended her hand upwards, searching in the air for his arm to assist her up. He allowed her to grab onto his forearm, and pulled her up to a stand, her chuckles slowly dying.

He tapped his foot against the carpeted floor, which ruined the effect of impatient tapping completely as she couldn't hear it. After he realized this, he stopped, and instead crossed his arms, waiting for her to stop. When she did so, he asked again, "what's so funny?"

"It's just," she gasped, "you looked like a lost puppy!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you just call me a puppy?"

"I said you _looked _like a puppy," she repeated, grinning. "A lost puppy, at that." For a moment, she paused and dropped her grin, still slightly uncomfortable with the fact that this was Draco Malfoy. Maybe they weren't at the stage of harmless teasing yet. She bit her lip.

Relief flooded her as he pouted. She could see him fight a small smile, and she grinned again. "I did not!" he protested, walking towards his room. "I was thinking!"

She snorted, following him. "Well then don't think too often Malfoy, you might ruin your reputation. Then you'll be known as puppy instead of ferret."

"I don't know which one's worse," he drawled, slipping into his room to grab a jacket as she paused at his door, respecting his privacy. She knew he hated people entering his room without his consent.

She pivoted out of the doorway and leaned against the wall just outside his room, her sweater in hand. She rested her head against the wall, and lost herself in thought.

It was amazing how just things could change so much—she pictured Draco laughing—and yet seemingly not change at all.

"Are you just going to drool there all day?" he bit out as he passed by her, closing the door as he went.

_Case and point, _she thought silently to herself. "I would like to actually. Too bad I have to finish my essay tonight. I guess it couldn't hurt though. Chace Burt is just so…" she pretended to giggle.

He rolled his eyes, and lifted a hand, cutting her off. "Spare me," he muttered. Together, they slipped on their sweaters and left the warmth of their dorm and into the dank hallways of Hogwarts. Hermione shivered.

"Why is our school so creepy at night?" she wondered out loud.

Draco didn't find it creepy at all, and he said so.

"How is it not," she wondered. "Oh never mind," she sighed, changing her mind before continuing. It was pointless arguing with him sometimes. "Why can you never agree with me?"

Draco shrugged, peering around a tapestry into a small alcove, one that he knew—from experience—was excellent for hiding couples. He almost frowned when it was empty. There was no fun in that. Unfazed, he returned his thoughts to the conversation. "It's not that I can't agree with you."

"What is it then huh?"

"It's that you just say things that give me no incentive to agree with you," he explained in a tone that made it sound like she was a fool for not realizing it.

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

"See, if you said something like: Ronald Weasley is such a git. Then I would agree and say, yes. Hell, I might even add something like: A stupid git!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Real mature Draco."

He shrugged. "Damn," he swore under his breath as he found another empty closet. "I really want to bust somebody."

Hermione bit back a smile. Half the time, she could barely restrain herself from the urge to tear him apart in frustration. And the other half of the time, like now, she couldn't restrain herself from endlessly smiling and laughing because of him.

Their footsteps echoed in the lonely hall as they passed through. Hermione was glad she didn't have to do patrol alone. Suddenly, something warm wrapped itself around left wrist firmly. She recognized it as Draco's hand.

She tried to ignore the flutter of her stomach which she knew was due to his contact with her. Hermione tried to pull away, but Draco swung his head back and glared at her, pressing a finger from his free hand to his lips. Then he pointed at her feet.

She sighed inwardly and lightened her steps so that she made less noise. He pulled her along, forcing her to double in steps to match his large strides.

"Detention!" he declared triumphantly as he let go of her hand and used it to push open a door.

Hermione was unexpectedly disappointed at the sudden lack of contact, but quickly shook those thoughts out of her head. Females, she decided, had hormones. It was only normal.

With that thought in mind, she looked up to see Draco's wide eyes, and frightened expression. She turned towards the room he had just revealed, and fought a giggle.

Filch froze, his arms under Ms. Norris' armpits as he held her up, his nose touching hers. He quickly dropped the cat and growled. He stuttered a bit before standing up. "Well, well, well, what are we doing?"

He used the table to support his walking, as he hobbled towards them. Hermione took a step back, and tugged Draco's sleeve when she noticed he was still frozen in place.

"Patrol sir," Hermione managed as he approached, his wane expression illuminated by his thinning gray hair. The old caretaker of Hogwarts had always scared her. And evidently Draco as well, who had just regained sense.

"Yes, patrol sir. Sorry to bother. We'll me heading back to our dorms now," Draco rushed out hurriedly, before turning away and speed-walking off, grabbing Hermione as he went.

They didn't stop until Filch's angry mutterings were nothing but a distant buzz. Hermione then wrenched herself free of his grip. "Ouch," she hissed.

"Oh come on, you got out of that cast over a week ago!" he retorted, ignoring her as he continued walking.

"It still hurts!" she muttered, keeping up with him.

"The accident was nearly a month ago!"

"So?" Hermione bit back, although she had to admit it didn't really hurt at all. It was just, she was tired of walking at his pace. He walked _fast!_

He seemed to know this too. Rightfully so, as it had been the topic of their discussions many times before. He slowed down for her.

After a bit of silence, Hermione spoke. "You are such an idiot."

He knew she was referring to opening the caretaker's door. "Well how was I supposed to know?" he defended.

"I don't know. The sign on the door that says 'Do Not Enter'. What other room do you know of that says do not enter," she pointed out logically.

"I didn't see it!"

"And thus you're an idiot!"

"I think I hear something behind us. You think he's following us?"

"You know what I think? I think you're an idiot," she said, before speeding up. It frustrated her that he easily matched her increased pace, unaffected.

"I hear something!"

Hermione didn't look back. "Filch probably has better things to do."

"Like get back with Ms. Norris," Draco snickered. "It's disgusting."

"Don't be so crude!" Hermione admonished, but reluctantly admitted to herself that she was thinking the same thing.

Silence engulfed them for the next part of the patrol, as they headed to the floor below them. The rhythmic tick of the clock lulled a pace for them. During her first patrol as a prefect, Hermione had been unnerved by the ticking. Now, it filled the silence well. Still, to this day, it bothered her that she couldn't find the source of the ticking. It was one of the many mysteries of Hogwarts that would probably never be solved, she mused.

As they finally descended into the final floor of their patrol—the dungeons—Hermione spoke. "One day," she said aloud, breaking the silence, "I want to see the inside of your common room."

"Is that even allowed?"

"I don't know. But I just want to see it." She looked at him, and he knew she was asking him to take her.

"Maybe when nobody's there," he allowed, wording it so that it was neither a yes or no.

"Of course," she agreed. She bit her lip.

"You can ask your questions," he drawled, knowing she was refraining from pouring out questions even without looking at her.

"Is it green?" That was the first thing she asked. She just had to know. He was amused. Sometimes, he just didn't understand her at all.

"No, it's red."

"I don't like sarcasm. It's mean," she berated.

"No," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. He smirked.

"Fine, you don't get to hear the rest of my questions then," she crossed her arms.

"Good," he replied. He knew, however, that she wouldn't be able to keep it to herself. He had sensed she had questions since midway into her silence, and he was inclined to believe it had nothing to do with his green coloured common room.

_Five, four, three, two, one…..,_he counted down in his head.

"How are you and Katherine?" she blurted out.

And there it was, he chuckled inwardly. _Boring, _he thought, but replied with a "fine" instead. He realized that where as before, when she asked that question, she meant it as a challenge—now, she was genuinely interested.

Before she could stop herself, she continued. "You really like her huh?"

He looked at her for a moment, before ascending the stairwell out of the dungeons. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, this has got to be the longest you've had a girlfriend," she accurately pointed out. "It's weird."

It was true, he realized. He frowned. That bothered him a little, for no particular reason. It was just…_why _did he keep her so long? It suddenly occurred to him that it was in some way related to Hermione. He wanted to prove to her that he could keep a girlfriend. He wanted to…impress her. To show her that she was wrong about him.

That unnerved him. Hermione unnerved him. Because she brought so many changes to him.

She was just so different. Her personality intrigued him. Impressed him. She was strong.

She smiled at him.

She was so much more than strong.

When her smile turned into a frown, he figured he had missed something. "Sorry?" he asked.

"I _said,"_ she repeated, sounding exasperated, "you should do something!"

"About?" He was confused. What were they talking about again?

"Katherine! It's almost your two month anniversary!" She sounded shocked that he seemed to have forgotten.

He shrugged. "Alright. If you say so."

"Hm…maybe you could sneak her out to Hogsmeade…"

"What's this? Hermione Granger _suggesting _that I should break the rules?" he teased, but she didn't hear him, lost in her own world.

"Or…you could make dinner…"

"I would rather the sneaking out plan."

"..I don't suppose you did anything for the one month…"

"Nope."

"…no I bet you can't cook..that's not a good idea…"

"Right you are."

"…I wonder if there's anything else…"

"You're a pig."

"…I guess Hogsmeade could do…"

"You love Ronald Weasley."

"…but that's just so typical…"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"…Alright! Sorry, were you saying something?" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh I'm so sorry. I just sometimes get lost in my thoughts…"

"It's alright."

"…and I totally ignore what others say and—"

"Hermione!" Draco yelled.

"What?"

"It's fine," he said, lowering his voice. He thought it was rather endearing. "So what have you decided for me?" He wasn't sure if he meant it as an insult, or whether he was genuinely asking. In the past, it would have been an insult but now.."

"You could sneak out to Hogsmeade together and have a dinner all set up. You'd have to cook it of course."

"Why?"

"Because. Don't worry. I could help you if you want." Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

* * *

Hermione yawned and pulled out her assignment. She just needed to finish up. The one thing she hated about being friends with Draco was that their patrols lasted a lot longer, mostly because they spent more time talking. She shivered, and decided to move her work to the common area, where the fireplace was. It would be warmer.

She picked up her stuff, grabbed a blanket, and headed out. Summoning a cup of hot chocolate, she settle herself on a couch and began to work, occasionally sipping her warm drink.

After a few corrections, she noticed the light flicker off in Draco's room. She checked the clock, and realized that it was nearly midnight. She had better get moving and finish quickly.

A little while later, she refilled her drink, standing up to stretch. She walked around the room slowly, allowing her blood to flow. She was nearly finished. Her thoughts wandered.

She could teach Draco to make spaghetti, she thought. It was easy enough. She considered why she was helping him as she took a sip of her drink, standing over her work.

"Because he's my friend," she murmured, with a smile on her face. "Because…" she struggled to come up with another reason.

Because she liked Katherine? She didn't even know the girl. And from what she did know about her, she knew that Katherine and Draco were completely unsuitable for one another.

She didn't challenge him at all. She was shallow. She was prejudiced. She was a complete twit and flirt.

Their relationship was based on lust. Purely physical.

She always believed Draco needed more than that. He _did _need more than that. He needed someone like..

She…she didn't want them together. Hermione wasn't sure why. But she didn't want them together at all. The realization shocked her.

And it was all because she decided that Draco was _better _than that. He needed someone better, someone liike….like..her.

She gulped, wide eyed. Her grip on her cup slipped, and she watched, dismayed, as deep brown liquid engulfed her work, sinking into the parchment papers rapidly, smudging every word it reached.

"Shit!" she cursed loudly, her previous thought flying out of her head. She covered her mouth, eyes flickering towards Draco's unlit room, and resumed her cursing—this time, silently. This was not happening. This was _not _happening.

She picked up the cup and placed it on the table, but by then, all the liquid had already seeped into her papers. She rubbed her temples, distressed, and then placed the papers on the table as well. She quickly ran to her room, grabbed her wand, and returned, casting a drying spell on her work. The papers were ruined. No amount of magic could save it. She set her wand down on the table, defeated. The paper took her days. How was she supposed to finish it now?

She bit her lip, upset. She was going to be up all night! And even then, she probably couldn't finish. She agitatedly grabbed the sheets and threw them in the garbage before stomping into her room and grabbing her books. How could she be such an idiot? She would have to research all over again, although she could remember a lot of the facts.

She felt like crying. How could this happen? Now of all times. She would never finish. She forced herself to let the moment pass, and felt her emotions slowly cool. She breathed in and out a few times, couting to ten in her head, before flipping open the book in resignation.

"I can't believe this," she said to herself. Picking up her quill, she began writing on some new parchment, reading as she went.

Eventually, she heard the clock strike 2. Hermione had completed not over 3 paragraphs. She threw her books against the couch angrily and dropped her head in her hands, roughly running her hands up and down her face. She groaned.

Finally, after letting out her frustration, she crawled over to pick up the book. She was surprised to see it lift in the air. She fell on the back of her legs and looked up to see Draco hovering over, sleepy eyed and yawning—the book in his hands.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she said immediately.

He yawned again and shook his head.

"Can I have my book back?" Hermione asked, a little impatiently. "I'm sorry, it's just I really have to—"

Draco conjured two cups of coffee on the table, and ignored her, walking around the couch and settling on the spot where she had thrown the book.

"What are you doing?" she asked him. "I just want my—"

"I'll help," he muttered, cracking open the book. "What page?"

Hermione stood there, stunned for a moment.

"Has your brain gone dead? Hermione, you look like crap. Drink some coffee and let's just get this over with."

Hermione ignored the insult, and sank to a seat in front of her papers. "322."

He obliged to turn to that page. He skimmed the text, rubbing his eyes as he tried to extract the key points. "Casting is a form of transfiguration," he read aloud, as Hermione furiously scribbled. "It was inve—"

"Hey Draco?"

Draco looked up, annoyed at being interrupted.

She hesitated. "You know..." she said slowly, "thanks."

**A/N: It occurred to me that we were like..11 chapters in, and I have gotten through about 8 lines of my plan, which is two pages long. SO. As a result, I have decided to PROCEED ON a teeny bit faster. **

**Next Chapter: Fools Like Us**

**I have bad newsss. This will be the last update for me for a while. Why you may ask? Or maybe you don't care. BUT…I will tell you anyways. I'm going on vacation. I don't think I'll have the time to write, and I will have limited computer access. Let's see. I'm coming back on the fifth of January. I PROMISE I will resume my regular updates right after alright? :) No dilly-dallying. Pinky swear!**

**I'm terribly sorry!**

**I know I said I don't want them to be like suddenly in love, and I promise they won't be. But I think I might not go into the friends thing as much as I thought I would before. Do you think that's alright? I mean. They were friends before sort of. Just unofficially. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! Review, review, review please?**


	13. Fools Like Us

**Fools Like Us**

"You're angry with me," he stated, seemingly appearing into the room out of nowhere.

Hermione ignored him.

"Why are you angry with me?" he asked, frowning.

Without taking her eyes off the book, she replied, "I am _not _angry with you."

"Oh, but your tone clearly indicates otherwise. It's that no-tolerance-get-out-of-my-way-and-please-shut-up-and-leave-me-alone tone."

She finally took her eyes off her page, finding that she couldn't absorb the words with him talking beside her. "Well, if you've concluded that that is what I'm thinking, why don't you take the hint?"

He shrugged easily, his eyes still fixed on her. "When have I ever listened to you? Much less your subliminal hints."

"Maybe you should start," she commented dryly.

"You _are _upset," he repeated, verifying his earlier suspicion.

She sighed aloud, and insisted that she was _not _upset.

"Then why are you acting this way?" he challenged.

"What way?"

"Like a priss with a broomstick stuck up her arse."

"Pleasant sight," she muttered. She glared at him. Then sighed again. She couldn't tell him why she was acting this way, partially because she didn't really know. Hermione knew why he was here. Today was his and Katherine's anniversary, and she and her big mouth had promised to help him. But now she didn't want to.

She slipped a bookmark on her page, and closed her book, setting it carefully on the couch, standing up. "Well, let's get on with it then I suppose." She sounded defeated.

"Finally," Draco said. "The house elves cleared some space for us."

As they walked towards the kitchen, Hermione focused on the splashes of sunlight peering through the tall windows of the school.

Draco didn't know what was wrong—only that for one reason or another, Hermione was upset. And she wasn't telling him why. He picked at his thoughts, trying to find something to fill the silence and get her talking.

_Well…he supposed…_He didn't really care for this whole thing. Nor did he understand why he had to put so much effort to create such a big production for just some lousy anniversary. The very idea was absurd to him. He didn't want to do it, mostly because he didn't understand what there was to celebrate. He didn't even like her that much. But last time, Hermione had seemed excited about this. And he just couldn't bring himself to refuse. He only agreed because she wanted it.

Maybe he could talk about that.

"So, here's the plan," he began slowly. "We make the food now. Then I'll have them shipped to –"

She interrupted him. "Sure," she cut in shortly. She really didn't need to know. She was doing this because she thought Draco truly wanted this. For Draco, not Katherine. She was doing this because he was her friend.

Her short reply left him perplexed, and ceased all conversation. Soon enough, they arrived at the kitchens. Draco slipped through the doors, followed by Hermione.

"Master Malfoy, would you like us to assist you?" one of the house elves asked as he passed by. He looked back at Hermione, who gazed at him with an unreadable expression.

Why did he ask for her help when the house elves had offered?

He shook his head at the house elf. "No." He paused. "Thank you," he amended, sneaking a smirk towards Hermione.

He was dismayed to see she had moved on already. She was at the cutting counter, pulling her hair up into a loose bun piled at the base of her neck.

"Gordon," he heard her say. Who was Gordon? He looked around to see a house elf bowing and stepping forward. Of course, _she _would know the creatures by name. "We're making spaghetti with tomato sauce. Do you think you could—"

"Bring out the ingredients? Yes, miss."

"Thank you," she nodded. Then looked at Draco with somewhat of a bored expression. "Well?"

"You look good with your hair up," he said nonchalantly, as he undid the buttons on his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Hermione froze. She opened her mouth as though to respond, but closed it again a moment later. "Come on, let's do this," she then said, almost reluctantly. She was ignoring his compliment.

He shrugged. If that was what she wanted. "Alright, what first?"

She crouched on the floor and began rummaging through some cabinets, looking for a can of tomato paste. It would make things so much easier. "You cook the spaghetti, " she instructed, self consciously pulling the back of her pink t-shirt lower over her jeans.

Draco stood there for a moment. When he saw that she wasn't going to continue, he slowly picked up the bag of spaghetti, flipping it over and over, searching for directions.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her straighten up, a flash of a triumphant smile on her face as she set the can of paste on the table. Just when he thought her mood had improved though, her smile faded and was replaced with a look of annoyance as she turned towards him.

"Why haven't you begun boiling the—" she stopped short as realization dawned on her. She looked at him, and he nodded in confirmation of her suspicions. "You don't have a clue how to do this do you?"

"Well," he replied, placing the package he had been holding onto her outstretched hand, "cooking was never necessary. It never came up."

"Of course," she muttered. She continued mumbling something unintelligible as she tore open the package.

He stood behind her awkwardly, noting that she was no longer paying attention to him. "What—what should I do?"

She considered, twisting her head to regard him. He noticed that a few tendrils of hair had fallen loose, framing her face. She had lost herself in her thoughts again, and he took advantage of her distraction to look at her expression. Generally, she was a readable person. When she smiled, it meant she was happy. When she frowned, it meant that she was either upset, or solving a problem. She never tried to hide herself. That was what he had thought at least. But now, she added another layer to herself. She was guarded today, something that Draco had never seen her do. Not that he paid much attention to her before.

"Grab two pots. One big and one small. Fill the big one halfway with water, and put it on the stove. I'll find a drainer."

Draco obliged, searching through the cabinets until he found one stored with a multitude of pots and pans, ranging from small to big. He picked two that he deemed fitted Hermione's vague instructions. "Fill one halfway with water," he mumbled to himself, grabbing the larger pot and heading towards the sink.

He caught sight of Hermione pulling out what seemed like a large translucent bowl with small holes at the bottom. She began walking towards him, and he was introduced with the prospect that maybe she had forgiven him for whatever he had done to wrong her and now they would be able to talk. To his dismay, she merely needed to set the weird bowl down in the sink. "That's enough water," she said to him, before heading back to the chopping board.

For a moment, he was stunned. Then he quickly turned off the faucet and lifted the pot to the stove, where he switched on the fire to high and covered the pot with the lid. Satisfied at his work, he strode towards Hermione silently, intending to surprise her.

He stood behind her, watching as she pushed the knife through the tomato smoothly, again and again, until the round red object ended up in even slices.

He eyed the tomatoes. "Can I try?" he asked, his mouth near her ear.

Surprised at his proximity, she slipped. She cursed under her breath as she dropped the knife, bringing her finger to her mouth.

"Crap!" Draco exclaimed, relenting his position behind her and moving beside her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head to indicate that she was fine, her mouth too busy sucking her wound to reply.

He bit his lip and eased her injured hand downwards, peering at the wound. He wrapped his fingers gently around her forefinger, which blood was now seeping out of. She instinctively tried to jerk her hand away, to no avail.

"It's fine," she insisted, heat flaring inside of her as she tried to pry herself out of his grasp. "It's just a small cut."

Draco reached for his wand in his pocket, and lifted it up. "Honestly Draco…" but her words died out. She nodded as he searched her for permission. He muttered a quick healing spell, and watched as the bleeding slowly came to a stop, her skin pulling together once again, sealing off the wound.

With his hand still around hers, he pulled her towards the sink and with his free hand, ran a tissue under water. He rubbed away the remains of the blood.

"Do you need to kiss the booboo all better too?" she teased, laughing at him for treating her like such a small child.

He grinned. Finally, he thought to himself, she was acting a little more like herself. He raised an eyebrow at her words, waiting for her to realize the innuendo laced with what she had said.

She blushed. "I didn't mean it like that," she protested, tugging at her hand. This time, he let her pull it back.

"Sure you didn't. So about kissing the booboo.."

He pretended to reach for her hand, and she laughed, stepping away from him. The cold barrier was finally shattered. "Eww," she giggled.

He watched silently, with a small upward twist of his lips as her hair elastic slipped, her long curly hair fanning out behind her. He bent down and picked up the elastic before she could, and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her expression serious again.

Draco noted this. He couldn't have this. She would just revert back to her moody state. No, that wouldn't do.

"Maybe I should handle the cutting from now on," he smirked.

She was about to retort when they heard the furious sizzling of overflowing water behind them. Hermione immediately rushed over to the pot, grabbing a wet towel as she went. She set the lid down on the counter and lowered the heat. "Could you pass the spaghetti please?"

Draco handed the package to her, careful to keep the open side upright. He watched, curious, as she poured half the contents out. "Why do they look like sticks?"

She finished up, then looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Is that what spaghetti looks like before it's boiled?" he asked, pointing to the package in her hands.

She set it back on the counter. "Yeah, it softens as it's boiled." She used her hands and fanned out the spaghetti resting on the side of the pot. As the ends in the water softened, the rest of the sticks began sinking into the water. Finally, she covered the pot once again. "Just a few minutes, and it'll be done. Can you dice the tomatoes? I'll start the sauce."

"Dice?"

She rolled her eyes. "Cut into small squares. I already have them in slices."

He nodded, and headed towards the board, noting that she was much more talkative and much less biting than before.

Hermione watched him for a moment, struggling with the first few slices before getting the hang of it.

"It's like potions," he realized, sensing her stare.

She tied up her hair once again as he sped through the rest of it. "The celery too. And then slice the mushrooms."

"Yes sir!" he paused, "Er…madame!"

She cleared her throat with a smile. "Miss!" he finally declared. He sent a sidelong smirk at her before returning to his work.

She shook her head and returned to her own task at hand. She brought the smaller pot Draco had chosen and set it on the lit stove. She used a can opener to open the can of tomato paste and poured the thick red liquid into the pot. With a quick spin to even it out, she set the cover over it and tended to the spaghetti, which was now done.

She turned off the stove, and took off the lid, stirring it a few times. Then, she brought it over to the draining bowl and poured it in, letting the boiling water drain away. She set the pot down in the other sink and pulled out a container of ground beef.

"That looks disgusting," Draco commented, as he pushed the finished celery and mushrooms in a bowl, wiping his hands off on a towel lying on the counter.

"Help me with this," she said, "grab another bowl and some olive oil, garlic, and onion."

He did so as she set the container on the counter. She reached across for a spoon as he returned. Draco placed the bowl between them. Hermione added about a pound of meat, and motioned for Draco to begin chopping the garlic and onion. She doused the meat in oil, and mixed. Draco added the garlic after.

As he began chopping the onion, Hermione laughed. Draco ignored the sting in his eyes and grimaced. "It's the onion!" he protested.

"I've never seen you cry," she chuckled.

"I'm not crying!"

Once that was done, with much more protesting on Draco's part and teasing on Hermione's, they added the onion into the meat mixture.

"Would you like the honours?"

Draco nodded, and stirred the meat mix, grimacing as he did. "This looks so—" but Hermione was already gone, adding the tomatoes to the simmering sauce.

He walked over and stood beside her. She popped a cube of tomato in her mouth and offered one to him. He declined, and she shrugged, eating it herself. She motioned for him to add the beef. She stirred the sauce satisfactorily.

He checked the clock, and was surprised to see how late it was already and how quickly it went. "The vegetables," he heard her say.

He walked over and grabbed the bowl, returning to see Hermione bearing the lid of the pot like a shield.

"What are you doing?" He let of a bark of laughter, dumping the contents into the pot.

"It's going to splatter on you!" she returned, as she watched the sauce begin to boil. "It's the worst part."

Draco flinched as a bubble popped, sending splatters of the boiling sauce onto his arm. He quickly pulled back, standing a distance away, watching Hermione meekly stir the contents. Finally, she settled the lid back on top.

"Done!" he declared, watching as she began placing empty bowls into the sink, wiping the splattered sauce of his forearms.

Hermione smirked. "Not done. Get some plates."

He groaned, but did so, grabbing two plates. She went and turned off the stove. "You have to do this part on your own," Hermione stated. She leaned against the counter and grabbed a bottle of water, sipping it as she watched him frown. Then, he split the warm spaghetti on the two plates.

Hermione stretched, satisfied that all had went fairly well. She watched as he poured the sauce on with care. Once finished, he looked up expectantly at her. She shook her head with a smile. "Cheese," she said.

He groaned and headed towards the fridge.

Hermione watched as he rummaged through, pulling out various types of cheeses. She had to admit that she had some feelings for him.

Even before they were friends, she had to admit that there was a reason why so many girls liked him. He was charming and smart…among other things like the fact that he was rich, and pleasing to look at. Despite it all, the rudeness, the snide remarks, the derision, he had changed. The war had changed everyone in some way, but none more so than him. He had grown up. And he had grown up right—to the chagrin of many who were still unwilling to admit it.

She had never doubted that she could have fallen for him, if she didn't hate him so much and if he didn't hate her so much. There were just so many barriers that helped her resist him. And Katherine was a perfect barrier, especially if he became serious with her.

So why did it bother her so much? Shouldn't if give her relief?

But now that they were friends, things became different. However, she was no fool. Only a fool would fall for him. No, she may like him, may sometimes feel things she really shouldn't because of him, but they were only because of hormones. That and maybe because he was forbidden to her. He was merely temptation.

Hermione was careful about her heart, guarded about her feelings.

But the truth of the matter was, no matter how much she may like him, she would never let herself fall for him. Because that would be foolish. And Hermione was no fool.

"It look's great," she commented, her praise genuine.

Draco looked pleased. He called an elf to help him transport the food to the restaurant, and leaned on the counter beside her.

"We make a good team," he said.

She didn't reply.

They were silent for a minute. "You know," Hermione began, "spaghetti is one of my favourite foods."

He didn't comment on the fact that that was completely random. "According to what I've learned about you, your list of favourite foods is endless you pig."

She ignored the remark. "It tastes so good, and is so easy to make."

"Easy?!" Draco exclaimed. "That took us the better part of the afternoon!"

She turned to him with a smirk. "Admit it, house elves aren't given enough credit."

He shook his head. "I will do _no _such thing."

"Come on," Hermione pushed. "It was hard, and they do this every day, as well as laundry, cleaning, and everything else the we deem unsuitable for great beings like ourselves to do." She frowned.

"If I admit it, will you restrain from going all S. P. E. W. at me?"

"Maybe?" Hermione smiled.

Draco turned to her. "Alright fine, house elves…aren't given enough credit," he grudgingly admitted. He waited for her triumphant smirk before adding, "sometimes."

He thought she would be upset, but instead she laughed, tilting her head upwards.

Draco cocked his head to the side and regarded her. He had never really been this close to her before. Admittedly, he had never tried. He could smell her peach and vanilla perfume wafting towards him, blurring his senses. He loved that smell. It was one of the first things he noticed about her. He watched as she looked at him through her lovely brown eyes, framed with a thick rim of long brown lashes. There was a little crinkle on the side of her eyes as she laughed, and her nose wrinkled slightly.

The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to continue getting to know her. It just seemed like he couldn't get enough of her. She never ceased to bring a smile on his face, like she was doing now, in one way or another. And sometimes, he just had the urge to make _her _smile.

He didn't know what it was, but he loved spending time with her. There was just something undeniable about her, something that made him pause—which was neither good nor bad in his opinion.

She snorted in her laughter. And then brought her hand up to cover her mouth in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. She was pretty, he decided in that moment. Beautiful—and not in the "for a muggleborn" type of way. Just beautiful—snorting, yelling, bickering, ranting, and glaring aside of course.

Somehow, they ended up touching beside each other. A moment later, he felt something cool and wet running down his back.

Hermione stepped away from him, twisting a half empty bottle of water in her hand, clearly pleased with herself.

He growled and shivered as the water ran down his back, tickling his skin. In one quick move, he stepped forwards and backed her up against the counter with the sink. His body was flush against hers, and she was trapped between him and the counter. There was something unnervingly intimate about the position. He reached forward and Hermione sucked her breath in at the proximity. Except he wasn't reaching for her. Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw him wield the extendible faucet head in his hand, the other hand around her on her other side. She presumed it was on the tap.

Her eyes widened. Her lips formed a 'O'. "Please, no," she pleaded.

"You started it," he accused.

"Please," she pleaded again, distracting him. She then tipped the rest of her bottle onto his back. In reaction, he turned the tap on, drenching the both of them in water.

She shrieked as the cold hit her. "Draco!"

"Hermione!" he mocked, turning off the tap. He dropped the faucet, bracing himself by placing his hands on the edge of the counter.

"I'm soaking," she frowned.

"So am I."

"You're lucky I wasn't wearing white."

"No, I'm unlucky." He shrugged his eyebrows suggestively.

"Pervert," she muttered.

He shook his head like a dog would do after getting wet, flicking more droplets of water onto her. "Stop it!" she laughed. She closed her eyes in reaction. He stopped a moment later, and pulled back slightly. He lifted one hand, and swept the tendrils of hair now clinging to her face away. He saw her eyes relax—from being squeezed shut, now, it seemed like they were simply closed. She could feel his warm breath intermingling with hers. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, and for some reason, he was glad for it. Glad because it wasn't loathing, or fear—merely hesitation.

He shouldn't be doing this. And if he kept this up for long, he would do something incredible foolish, like kiss her. But he couldn't seem to pull away. He struggled with himself, his conscience falling away as he lost himself in her eyes. If she pulled back, he would stop, he promised himself.

But when she placed her soft hand against his cheek, he lost all sense and resistance. He gently leaned in, his hand trailing down the length of her hair, falling to the small of her back.

Hermione couldn't tear herself away from him. Her throat went dry, and her lips parted. Her eyelids began to fall shut.

In some faint part of her mind, she could hear something tell her that she needed to find a distraction. She tried to push the thought out of her mind, bring her hand up to his face. She just needed to feel him. And she feared she would never get this chance again.

_Distraction_, she heard. Draco leaned in, and she felt herself melt.

Her other hand fell to the counter to brace herself, hitting a stray piece of spaghetti instead.

Spaghetti. They had been cooking. They had been cooking spaghetti. With tomato sauce. They had been cooking spaghetti with tomato sauce for dinner. An Anniversary dinner.

Who's anniversary again?

Her eyes popped open, and she pulled away.

Draco look startled and confused, but she ignored it. She brought both her hands to his chest and pushed him forcefully away.

"No," she said firmly, both to reprimand herself and him. Her thoughts were a whirlwind in her mind.

He grunted, his voice throaty and husky. He allowed her to push him away, and he felt the sudden loss of contact.

"No, I can't." She sent him one last longing look before spinning around and flying out of the room, leaving him standing alone.

**A/N: Hello! I am back:) with a BANG:) and an almost kiss!**

**The only thing I'm afraid of is that this was a little too fast? Maybe? Maybe not?**

**Eek, for some reason, I really want to try my hand at a present tense oneshot or story. I always do past tense 3****rd**** person omniscient. Maybe I'll try something else.**

**Anyways, I like to tackle one at a time mostly, so let's just finish this first. :) I hope to finish by March or April, yes. **

**REVIEW. **


	14. Desperado

**Desperado**

Hermione all but ran to her room. He wasn't following her, and she wasn't sure whether that fact relieved her, or hurt her more. The moment she slammed her room door shut, she pulled off her wet clothes, and slipped on a dry set, before rummaging frantically through her drawer. _Where was it? _

Finally, she pulled out a relatively small book bound in leather, and a pen. She tucked herself against the backboard of her bed, pulling her blanket over her knees, and fingered the key on her bracelet, slipping the object into the lock of the book.

She licked her finger and flipped through the pages covered with ink, finally coming to a stop at a fresh page.

_Dear Diary, _she began. _I'm,_ she paused, bringing the pen to her lips. What was she? Happy? No. Sad? No. _Confused, _she decided.

Hermione closed her eyes, letting her memory take over. She remembered the feel of him under her hands, his proximity to her. She felt his hot breath against her cheek, minty cool at the same time.

She forced her eyelids open. _I need to snap out of this, _she wrote. _Whatever this insanity is. Because he, he's not right for me. And he'll never be._

She placed her pen down on her page, and brought her finger up to her lips. She wondered what he tasted like. She bit her lip. _What's wrong with me?_

* * *

_What's wrong with me? _Draco thought, as he watched Hermione flee the room. His racing heart slowed to a steady beat as he slammed his hand angrily on the counter in front of him, where she had been just moments ago. The smell of her still lingered.

_Granger? _He knit his brows together, and shook his head. What was he going to do now?

He wondered if he should have gone after her, but decided against it. Not only was there the possibility that she would hex him, there was also the worse possibility that she would hate him for it. He grimaced at both thoughts and concluded it was best that she had time to cool off before he approached her to explain.

But explain what?

That he _wanted _to kiss her?

That when she touched him, every thought in his mind disappeared except for the image of her?

No, Draco shook his head. It couldn't be. What was he thinking?

* * *

After an indefinable amount of time in which Draco decided was necessary, he cautiously peered through the common room door. He spotted Hermione easily, curled up on the couch with a book in her hand.

Slowly he slipped into the room, positioning himself before her. He watched as she flipped a page of her book, but knew by the way her eyes failed to flow across the page that she wasn't reading it at all.

He cleared his throat. "Hey."

She looked up, displaying a fairly good imitation of surprise, as if she had just noticed him. "Oh, hello Draco." She had been making an effort to look like she had been reading in hopes that he would ignore her and head directly to his room. Useless effort, that.

"Look, about earlier.."

She somehow got the expression that what he was about to say was painfully well rehearsed. As if Hermione wanted to hear it.

Hermione raised her hand to stop him. "How was dinner?" she interrupted.

Draco looked taken aback. "Fine I suppose," he murmured. "About the.."

"Was the food alright?" Hermione interrupted again, hating the pang of jealously she suddenly felt. She pushed her feelings away, and waited for his response.

He frowned. Was she pretending as if it never happened? He decided that if that was what she wanted, it was better for him. He didn't really want to talk about it either, for fear of…he didn't know _what _exactly. "The spaghetti was great. After all, we _did _make it," he tried to joke.

Hermione forced a short laugh out. For a moment, he didn't respond, and Hermione awkwardly uncrossed her legs to fill the silence.

He finally gestured at the seat beside her. "May I sit?"He decided to give the whole, _talk, _thing another chance.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to come up with a way to refuse, or excuse herself. When she couldn't, she nodded once reluctantly and shifted to a side, giving him room and at the same time, ensuring that they wouldn't touch.

Hermione felt his weight as he sat down beside her. She felt his body heat radiating towards her, and hated her sensitivity to him. She picked up her book again and attempted to read, with an intention to minimize eye contact with him.

She began a sentence, and read the words in her head, but found that none of them stuck in her mind. She wasn't able to comprehend what the text was saying. It wasn't that It was a bad book, it was merely that he was distracting her.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said out of the blue.

She wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was apologizing that stunned her, or the fact that his apology sounded rather sincere. She didn't know how to respond. So she responded truthfully. "There's nothing to be sorry for," she replied softly, her tone final as if to say that that was the end of that topic.

He took the hint and continued no further upon it, changing the subject. "Would you like to hear about it?"

Hermione looked up, but in a different direction than at him, unconsciously avoiding eye contact. "About what?" Although she knew exactly about what.

"About tonight," he clarified. He felt that he should tell her. He felt that maybe, in some weird way, she would be proud of him.

She wanted to say no, no she didn't want to hear it, but he didn't give her a chance to reply.

"I went to pick her up from the common room, and we walked to Hogsmeade , I had a table set up, you know, all romantic and stuff I suppose. The stuff you girls like, right? Candles and all." He stopped abruptly. "Are you even listening to me?"

Hermione looked up, her expression blank. "Sure I am."

"Sure you are," he mocked.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed as if she didn't know.

"Granger, I'm making an _effort _here. Something I don't do very often. So you better bloody appreciate this and stop being so damn _difficult," _he hissed.

"I'm not being difficult," Hermione retorts, being just that—difficult that is.

He rolled his eyes. Merlin, what he wouldn't give if he could understand the workings of the mind of a girl. He counted to ten in his head, honing his temper and attempting to calm down.

"You don't seem happy for me," he accused, in a rather spoiled manner. This time around, his tone was gentler.

"I'm ecstatic, really," she replied sarcastically, wondering briefly where the bitterness in her words came from. At the sight of his angered expression returning, she relented, knowing he had reeled in his anger just previously with considerable effort for her. "No, I _am _happy for you Draco. Go on, tell me about it. Candles. And then?"

"Well, if you don't want to hear it.." he said, a little childishly, making a move to leave.

"No, no, I do. Come on. I'm sorry alright?" Hermione insisted before she could stop herself.

He gave her a look, before continuing slowly, looking up every few words to ensure she was listening. "She was really surprised. Wouldn't believe that I cooked it."

She wondered why she had asked him to stay, as he continued his retelling to her. Didn't she _want _him to go? What made her suddenly, so impulsively, urge him to stay and put her through this kind of torture. Maybe she was exaggerating—torture was too harsh a word for it. She realized that she should probably say something. "Oh," Hermione commented, more so out of necessity and to fill the silence than anything.

"Does that surprise you?"

Hermione thought about it. "No, I wouldn't believe you cooked it either."

Draco smiled tightly. "Eventually she did believe it, after I related the entire process to her. I think she was impressed."

"Is that so," she murmured absentmindedly. That was not the response he had been expecting. He continued.

"After dinner, we took a walk around the school. Weather was just warm enough for a short walk."

"Winter's coming," Hermione agreed. He sighed inwardly.

"We had a great time," he continued on.

Hermione felt another surge of jealousy course through her. _Foolish, _she reprimanded herself firmly.

"Thank you," Draco finished. "For helping me with it tonight. I couldn't have done it without you."

Hermione gulped. She almost laughed aloud at the irony of it. _He couldn't have done it without her. _

Hermione abruptly stood up, slamming the book shut. She wasn't sure whether his open mouth was a sign that he had been about to speak or not, nor did she care. "No problem," she forced out. "I'm going to finish up on my work inside," she explained as she hastily excused herself.

But before she could step away, his hand clasped around her wrist. "Wait."

She did as he asked, mostly because she knew there was no use trying to leave now anyways. He stood up and let go of her wrist.

"Well, aren't you going to say something?" She crossed her arms impatiently, praying that either he wouldn't say anything and let her go, or that her overactive imagination was exactly that—overactive. Because there was no way in hell he was going to confess to her or something like that, right? Right?

He ignored her comment, scrunching his forehead as he tried to formulate words. He wasn't sure why he was asking this. He just…wanted to _know. _A part of him just _wondered. _Perhaps it was foolish of him to entertain such an outrageous thought but…

"What if I said I wasn't going out with her anymore?"

Hermione stared at him wide eyed, and he returned her gaze unblinkingly. She wasn't sure if that question was worse than she was expecting, or better. "What-what type of question is that?" she stuttered, the thought of him not with Katherine anymore sending her stomach in knots.

"Answer me," he demanded, a mixture of embarrassment at the very question he had asked and urgency to know the answer flooding him.

She struggled with a short strangled laugh. "You just told me all about you anniversary date Draco."

"So?"

"So?" Hermione repeated, throwing her hands up. "So you are with her, it's simple" she replied, avoiding an answer.

"What _If, _hypothetically?"

"That's not a legitimate question then."

He rolled his eyes, covering up him anticipation.

"There is no," she raised her hands to imitate air quotations, "hypothetically," Hermione defended.

"Granger, _please," _he asked, more gently this time. "What if?"

"I don't know."

"Hermione," he begged.

Maybe it was his expression. Maybe it was the way her name rolled off his tongue that sent shivers down her back. Or maybe it was simply because she was weak. She paused for a moment and sighed quietly, turning away from him. "I would still say no."

There was something about the way she said it that made him consider, think, entertain the very thought, that maybe, just maybe, she didn't want that to be so. That maybe she wanted to say yes.

And he realized something. _Maybe I'm being possessed, _he thought, as he watched her walk away, _or maybe I'm dreaming. _Because what else could explain the madness spinning out of control within him. Madness was the only word he could use to describe it—because he realized that he wanted her to say yes.

Wasn't that interesting?

**A/N: They're not in love. Yet. I just wanted to point that out, in case you thought that. Well, they aren't. They just…sort of like each other (a little crush or something) but reject the very idea. Something like that. They're just two very confused and conflicted people.**

**I hope I got that through in the story. **

**To answer a review, I usually either write my next chapter after I update, or am 1 chapter ahead, depending on how busy I am. Like earlier, I was one chapter ahead, but right now, I haven't written the next one yet. **

**And I won't be writing it until after NEXT Friday, so about two weeks will be my next update. I'm sorry, but I have exams all next week and half of this week. :( **

**Anyways, that's it. **

**REVIEW PLEASE! PLEASE!**


	15. Wake Me Up With A Kiss

**Wake Me Up With A Kiss  
**

It was one of those days. One of those days where she just felt inexplicably tired. Tired of working. Tired of school. Tired of dealing with Ma—problems. Tired of…life.

It was one of those days for Hermione, who just wanted to crawl under her covers and go back to sleep.

But she knew Snape's happy cheery face—definitely a way to make her day ten times brighter—was waiting for her down in the dark dank dungeons. Just thinking about Snape smiling made her shudder. How disgusting would it be? She stretched, prolonging the time in her bed.

Quickly, she showered and changed. Her extra minutes in bed had left her little time to get ready—yet again. She stood in front of the mirror and gathered her hair up into a ponytail; with no time to wash it that morning, it would have to do. She straightened out the kinks in her sweater and with a sigh, grabbed her book bag lying on the ground.

She headed out of her room, almost forgetting about yesterday. Alright, fine. She didn't forget. She was hoping not to see _him_ this morning though.

"Uh oh." She heard him say.

There was a half toasted bagel left out for her on the counter. The other half was in his mouth. Seeing as it was unavoidable, she mustered her Gryffindor courage, and headed towards their small kitchen area and grabbed the offered breakfast.

"What?" she asked, as she took a bite out of the bagel.

"It's one of _those _days," he mumbled, after swallowing.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"PMSing?"

She rolled her eyes. "For the 100th time, I'm _not _PMSing! You say that every week!"

He dusted off the crumbs into the garbage can. "Well, excuse you for acting like it all the time. Always annoyed, short tempered. I've got to find some way to explain your behaviour."

She pretended to be annoyed, but secretly, was sort of glad things could return to some sort of normality. "Maybe," she interrupted, "it's because you're annoying!"

He shook his head and smirked. "No, that can't be it."

She chuckled. "You're wankers."

"That coming from someone who uses the word 'wankers'. Oh, I know," he exclaimed, leaning against the counter, waiting for her to finish. "It's sexual frustration isn't it."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, turning red.

"You honestly don't have to be embarrassed. I could give you some helpful advice. I'm a—"

"I think I'm going to puke. Malfoy, just stick with PMSing."

"Aha! So you _are _PMSing."

She finished off her bagel and slid off the stool, snatching her bag up as she did. "Tell me, why are guys so thick? Not to mention stupid," she laughed, as she left the room, not waiting for him.

He jogged to catch up, turning behind when he was a little ahead of her. He gave her a little shrug and a smile. "It's what we do."

"Well, stop doing it," she muttered good naturedly. So maybe her day was looking a little-teeny-weenie bit better. It wasn't as bad as she had thought.

When they got near the classroom, Draco sped up while Hermione simultaneously slowed down. They're friendship was still somewhat a secret—for good reason too.

As Draco walked ahead, he felt the urge to swing his arms and skip. That was how relieved he had felt. Draco had wanted so badly for things to be _normal _with Hermione again. And when people say that what Draco wants, he gets—they were essentially right. But with Hermione, it was an entirely different ballgame.

He felt so relieved.

He took his seat, and watched for Hermione to enter the room. She walked in a moment after, immediately heading over to her seat between Harry and Ron. She sent him a quick glance as she walked by, which he returned.

Suddenly, he heard the unquestionable throat clearing of the potions professor. A hush fell over the room.

"Today," Snape boomed, "we'll be boiling potions. Fun. Turn to page 312 and begin. At the end of this class, I want 12 potions on my desk, one per partner. Oh and Longbottom? Work with Granger this time and _not _Weasley. Maybe that way, nothing will blow up this time."

* * *

"You think we did alright Hermione?" Neville asked as he walked up the stairs beside her.

"I'm sure we did fine Neville."

"It's just that, I can't remember handing in a potion that wasn't..you know…toxic or something. Ever." He shrugged nervously. "I hope I don't cause you to get a bad mark."

Hermione smiled kindly. "Honestly Neville, it's perfectly fine. Don't worry."

"Really Hermione?"

"Yes!" she snapped.

From behind her, she heard him mutter. "PMSing."

She smiled demurely.

"Hey Longbottom. Congratulations. You're cauldron didn't blow up this time! There's a first for everything I suppose," Malfoy laughed from behind.

Hermione turned and glared. "There truly is a first time for everything. Malfoy's going to shut up with his dumb comments. Oh wait, that'll never happen. Pity."

"Wow what a comeback!" he exclaimed sarcastically.

"Yours is even better," she laughed. "I'm impressed. Truly."

Neville chuckled, and Hermione tugged at his arm, urging him up the stairs.

"I can't believe you just took that," Blaise muttered beside Draco, Crabbe and Goyle following behind. Draco shrugged.

"So there _is _a first for everything." Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Something is up," he concluded. He turned to the two behind him. "You guys go…somewhere. Me and Malfoy here, need to talk."

Crabbe and Goyle looked between themselves and shrugged, walking off in another direction once they made it to the main floor.

When they got to an empty area, Draco rolled his eyes and asked, "What do you want?"

"I'm actually _praying _that what I think isn't true."

"Depends on what you think then doesn't it," Draco sneered, already suspecting Blaise knew. He wasn't a fool. No, the opposite really.

"That you have an infatuation with…_Granger?!_"

"Hardly," Draco replied, not too quickly, and not to slowly either. He was a practiced liar.

"Don't feed me this bull. I can tell when people are lying Draco. I grew up with it…just like you remember?"

_Damnit, _Draco thought in his head. There were three people in this world he knew he could never fool. His father. His mother. And bloody Zabini.

Maybe Granger too, if she knew him a little better. She was already pretty good at it.

"You've got to be kidding Draco."

"I haven't said anything."

"Exactly!"

"Can we get out of here already?" Draco said, annoyed.

"Merlin Draco! All the girls here are just so…easy. She's a challenge. That's all there is to it," Blaise muttered, trying to convince both Draco.

"Trust me, I know," he sneered.

"Yes, and it's just something you have to get out of your system. It's not like you actually have feelings for her."

"Right."

"You're just confused."

"Shut up."

"You were always one to want what you couldn't have."

"Yeah!" Draco agreed. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Draco, listen to me." Blaise looked around. "Date her if you must, but once it's out of your system, you won't want her anymore."

Draco gulped, stomaching the feeling of unease. "I wouldn't date _Granger. _That's absolutely gross."

Blaise nodded approvingly, and Draco flooded with guilt. "At least you know it."

"Get off my case Zabini, you're not my father."

"If I were, you'd be dead already, for simply _entertaining _the thoughts."

Soon after, the two boys headed back to the great hall for lunch. As Draco entered, he completely ignored the Gryffindor table—just to prove his point to Blaise.

But still, as he began to eat, he imagined what it would be like if he took Blaise's advice. Dating Hermione? He imagined it as both probably highly frustrating, and at the same time, he imagined himself liking it.

But he couldn't imagine himself doing that to her though. Dating and then dumping her? He was certain that would put an end to their volatile friendship. That and the fact that he wasn't going to do anything if he wasn't sure she liked him. He would never risk rejection.

Draco looked to make sure no one at his table was looking before glancing at her usual spot as she ate.

He looked away.

He decided that he would have to stop thinking about her. Right now. Or else he just might do something he'd regret—something bad.

That said. He had a girlfriend. Guess he'd have to do something about that. He was getting bored anyways.

"Hey Draco, where are you man?"

"God Renolds, wipe the lipstick off your face and Crabbe, how the hell are you even in seventh year if you don't know what grassweed is?! Moron. " Draco commented to his classmates, sliding into seats nearby. "And Crabbe, where the hell were you?"

"You..you sent us away remember?"

The rest of them laughed. Goyle clapped Draco on the back, which earned him a death glare from the boy.

"Whatever," Draco muttered darkly, stabbing another piece of meat.

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Draco was hiding in his room. Why? He could imagine her prostrating him. "Go to hell and die, Malfoy!" he could hear her screaming at him in his head. He could even feel her death glare, burning holes into every imaginable part of his body. Amazing really, his explicit imagination, since it had yet to happen. Well, as the saying goes, it was better safe than sorry. And he was much safer in his room, then out there. With her.

Not that a door would stop her, but he was trying _not _to think of that.

Remember last time when Draco said he just might do something bad? Well…he just might've done it. What, you may ask did he—Maybe. Possible. Very likely.—do?

It happened like this: him and Hermione were doing homework in the common room. It made sense since they generally took the same courses anyways. And it wasn't like it was the first time. How was he supposed to know that this time, her intoxicating presence would drown him in his own fantasies, causing his restraint to fly away with the wind, bringing about urges—male urges—he had stored away, leaving him defenceless against his own impulsive irrational actions?

-

"_Aren't you tired?" Draco asked, yawning. He finished his sentence and put his quill down, closing his textbook after marking the page._

_Upon hearing no response, he looked up to see Hermione slumped over the arm of the couch._

"_Granger?" he asked again, stretching his back."Hermione?"_

"_I guess you're tired too," he murmured. "Suppose we should call it a night then." Draco stood up and performed a quick spell to ensure both his and Hermione's papers were dry before stacking all the books on top. He packed both their quills and inks, pushing them to the edge of the table, before walking over to stand above Hermione._

_He seated himself beside her on the couch gently. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he was going to leave her here. And he sure wasn't about to carry her to her room._

"_Hermione," he whispered, gently nudging her. "Wake up."_

"_Mmm?" she murmured sleepily. "Go away."_

_Draco laughed, placing his hands on her shoulders and pulling her up to face him. "Come on sleepyhead."_

_He watched as her eyelids slowly opened, her eyelashes fluttering. It didn't even matter that one side of her face was slightly redder from being lied on. At that moment, she enchanted him._

_And suddenly, he didn't know what he was thinking anymore. All he could see were her rosy lips._

_And then even more suddenly, he was kissing her. He was holding her and kissing her. She was still in a daze, and he was kissing her. And it was _good. Amazing even.

_So this was what he tasted like. Hermione jolted awake. He was _kissing _her. Merlin!_

Oh god, _Hermione thought,_ don't stop.

_But then her mind took over. Why was he kissing her? When did this happen?_

_He felt her tense up, and knew that she was fully awake now. He reluctantly pulled away, opening his eyes._

_She stared at him with her doe-like eyes, startled, but not scared nor disgusted._

"_Say no now," he whispered."Can you? Can you say no now?"_

_She didn't say anything. She opened her mouth. And then closed it. She licked her lips, pinching herself to see if it was real. It was._

_Draco let go of his grip on her shoulders, and she fell back against the couch. He realized that he had been supporting her. He stumbled to a stand, and began walking away._

_He wasn't supposed to do that. He wasn't going to._

_He wasn't planning on kissing Hermione Granger._

_And worst of all. He didn't regret it either._

-

So that's what he did. Given, he hadn't been cheating on his girlfriend, since he had of course, broken up with her already. And the only relief he could find was that Hermione knew that.

But then again, he was pretty sure she wouldn't care, and that a kiss _wasn't _what Hermione wanted.

"_What if I said I wasn't going out with her anymore?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Hermione," he begged._

_Maybe it was his expression. Maybe it was the way her name rolled off his tongue that sent shivers down her back. Or maybe it was simply because she was weak. She paused for a moment and sighed quietly, turning away from him. "I would still say no."_

Remember that? Yeah, Draco did too.

He sighed.

There was a knock on his door. Uh oh? Not a good sign. He made sure his wand was within reach. You know…in case he needed to cast a shield charm or something. Girl Weasley was famous for hexes and must've taught Hermione some, not that Hermione needed teaching. Wand? Check.

He didn't even say come in before the door opened. So much for knocking…

His thoughts died as Hermione stepped into the room, staying near the door as if it were her safety. She looked frazzled, and flushed. She looked enticing damn it.

Before he could even say a word, she spoke. "You kissed me."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded.

"You can't do that!" she said, with conviction. She brought her hands up to her cheeks, and held them there. "You just can't!"

Hermione took a step closer towards him, looking bewildered and at the same time determined.

She had run through it a thousand times in her mind. After he had left, she had stared at the empty space where he had just been for nearly half an hour, simply trying to come to terms with the sudden event that had transpired.

It was only natural for her to sit there and analyze the situation, over and over again, until she dissected the problem into tiny pieces and extracted every meaning behind it.

And she had come up with quite a list. Draco, she knew wasn't right for her at all. He would play her, and use her. He was dangerous. Fine as a friend you couldn't depend on. Fun to flirt with at times. But fatal if you ever fell in love with him. He was the opposite of her.

"—ry."

"What?" she asked, not hearing what he had said.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, stuttering slightly, his eyes never leaving her as she closed in on him with slow cautious steps. "What—What are you doing?"

She paused for a moment, a hair away from him. "I honestly don't even know," she murmured, before placing one hand on his cheek.

Hermione liked his cool skin, rough with a little hair. She let her fingers trail down his cheek, opting for now, to forget all about the reasons she had come up with against him. Just for the moment.

And then she kissed him.

**A/N: Can you believe I was going to cut this where theres like 5 lines, and save the kiss for next chappie? But I thought, since I was late on my updating, I wouldn't be so mean.**

**I'm sorry. School is just so heavy right now. 7 projects right after 7 exams. No joke. I'm pretty pissed off.**

**So, anyways, would all of you be against me skipping the part about their feelings at the beginning of next chap? Or do you think its necessary?**

**Weigh in on the kiss will you? **

**I sincerely apologize for the delay, and the fact that it's not that long. :( sorrry!  
Review!**


	16. The Magic of Night Time

**The Magic of Night Time**

It had been two days. Two whole days! Edging on three.

It had been two days since the kiss. Or..kisses. And they hadn't talked about it at all.

He wanted to ask her why she kissed him. He wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to…do something about it. Who kisses someone, and then just forgets about it? Hermione, apparently.

He was hesitant to bring it up however. Hermione seemed like she wanted to pretend as if it never happened. Moments after she had placed her soft sweet lips on his, she had cruelly torn it away and all but ran out of the room. It was as if she was scared…of him. That hurt the most.

Draco sighed inwardly. He wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms. He wondered if the rest of her skin was as smooth as the skin on her face. He wondered how he'd feel if her long slender fingers…

Draco cut himself off, kicking himself mentally.

He wasn't going to act like some stupid besotted fool. It was time to get some control. If she wasn't going to talk about, he wasn't going to ask. That would make him seem eager. And Draco was _not _eager, if anything.

And to reinforce his point, he purposely didn't look up when he heard Hermione enter the room. He quickly shuffled something into his hands.

Hermione waltzed into the room, grinning as she waved goodbye to Harry and Ron outside the door.

Her grin faded as she faced Draco. No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, her foolish actions two nights ago continued to haunt her. She pursed her lips. She should have never entered his room, much less allow herself to kiss him. She had just wanted to know what it would feel like. She supposed the urge took control of her.

She had thought he would have confronted her as to why she had run out of the room. She knew it was rude, and wrong. And she felt guilty about it.

But Hermione was scared. She had opened her eyes, and his image was right there in front of her. _He _was right there in front of her. And everything just cleared in her mind. She had been scared of herself.

How could she let herself go like that? What on holy earth was she doing?

She knew she had to get out of there, or else she wouldn't be able to stop herself from going further.

She figured that he had been hurt by that. But the fact that he was pretending it never happened hurt her too.

Did it matter to him? Had he thought about it?

She wanted to stop herself from thinking these thoughts. Hell, she promised herself she wouldn't! But she couldn't stop.

Still, she wasn't going to let her hurt pride show.

She plastered on a grin.

"Busy?" she asked, when she noted he had yet to look up.

He shrugged. "Yes."

She walked over and took a seat beside him, sending him an arching look as she caught sight of her muggle tabloid magazine in his hands.

"Didn't know you were interested in my world," she commented, a smile forming on her lips.

He flushed, and hastily put the book down. "Just curious," he murmured.

"So are you still busy?" she asked, teasingly, knowing that he had been avoiding her.

He rolled his eyes. "You caught me. No, I'm not busy. As you pointed out."

She chuckled, and pulled up her legs, wrapping her arms around them, tucking her chin in. "So, why weren't you at Hogsmeade today?"

She had seen him at breakfast that morning, so she knew he wasn't feeling ill. But when she had arrived with her friends at the nearby village, she had noticed his lack of presence.

"Tired of people. Had some stuff on my mind."

She nodded, her chin bumping on her knees. She knew the feeling. "Did you get any work done?" She looked towards the piles of paper on the desk.

"Some," he began. "Not as much as when we work together," he couldn't help but add.

"Well, half a brain versus one and a half brains. It's really no competition."

"Sorry, what?"

"You really are out of it," she murmured, impulsively leaning over. They brushed, and he felt himself heat up. She didn't seem to notice. "You know what I do when I can't think straight, or can't solve a problem?"

She was so close, he could smell her. He found he had to physically grip his hands together to refrain from reaching out. "What?" he croaked, hoarsely.

She pulled away and stood up. "I take a walk." She offered her hand to help him up.

He could have refused, opting to return to his room. It would certainly be the smarter thing to do. She would probably kiss him and then run away again, tossing his mind into another turmoil.

But he didn't think any sane man alive would have the power to say no, when she looked at him like that.

He took her hand and lifted himself up, letting his hand linger in hers a moment longer than necessary. He cast a sidelong glance to see if she had noticed.

Hermione did. And she wished he had continued to hold her hand, but she wasn't planning to show it.

She led the way out, grabbing a thick sweater along the way.

They left the castle, walking across the giant stretches of lawn, away from the glowing light escaping the windows. The moonlight flickered down around them, casting eerie shadows to guide their paths. A faint breeze hummed through the falling leaves, rustling.

"Where are we going?" he asked, feeling the tension in him relieving as he followed her. Maybe he should have gone out today. The fresh air was soothing. Or maybe it was her presence.

"It doesn't matter," she replied.

They continued walking, beside each other, for some time. The stretches of grass and field were endless.

"I love the night." She took a deep breath. "The scent, and the quiet."

They were near the black lake now, he could tell. He heart the soft sounds of water grazing the rocks.

"Why the night?" he heard himself ask. He imagined her as somewhat of a day person, what with her bright personality and all. "Didn't you ever fear the dark?"

"Not really fear. I never feared the dark. Maybe it's the mystery surrounding the nighttimes. It's so much more interesting. It makes me curious."

He was about to ask something else, but she went on.

"And the stars." She crouched down and felt the grass, ensuring it was dry, before seating herself on it. She laid back, lying on the ground. "In the day, I think we're blinded a bit. But at night, you can look up, especially at a place like Hogwarts, and you see the sky, and realize just how small we are."

"Aren't you going to lie down?"

"I'd really rather not," he retorted. But he sat down nonetheless.

"Suit yourself. The view's much better like this." She shrugged.

They were silent for a while.

"Draco."

"Hm?"

"Draco…isn't that the name of a constellation?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, once he realized she might not have seen.

She waited for him to continue, hoping to get him to open up a bit. "I was named after that. It's latin for—"

"Dragon," Hermione guessed.

He nodded with a smile. "What were you named after?"

"I don't really know, actually. I'd like to think that it was something special."

She heard shuffling beside her, and turned her head to see Draco lying beside her. "You sure the grounds not to dirty for you?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes.

"Sometimes," he began cautiously, ignoring her, "I wonder what it would have been like if we weren't so stupid as children."

She knew what he was saying. He was saying that he wondered what it would have been like if him and Harry hadn't gotten off on the wrong foot like they did. If their whole rivalry hadn't began. But that didn't mean she was going to make it easy for him.

"You mean if _you _weren't so stupid?"

He knew she got it. "And Potter!" he added with a chuckle. His smile faded. "What do you think it'd be like?"

"I don't think we'd have turned out so well," she replied honestly.

"You think I turned out well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She stared up at the sky. "You could have been worse."

He conceded to her answer.

"Do you ever wish you were a star?"

Draco looked at her weirdly, watching as she stared up wondrously at the blanket of sky. "Um..never occurred to me, no."

"You could look down and just..see everything, everybody. You'd be admired by everybody…"

"I hate to break it to you..but you can't..be a star?"

"Why not? Haven't you read the book Stardust?"

"Well. Yes. But—"

"Yeah—"

"It's just fiction!"

Hermione was silent for a moment. "This is why we're so different."

"What do you mean?" He watched her struggle for words, biting her lip.

"What do you think magic for me was like Draco?"

"What do you been what magic was like? It's just magic."

"You were born with it, it was always around you. It's as natural to you as eating and sleeping. But magic to me is like..I don't know…being a star to you. If that even makes sense."

He nodded, and turned back towards the sky. "What's it like? Being…muggleborn."

"I'll tell you, if you tell me," she giggled childishly, rolling over to her side to face him, tearing her gaze away from the sky.

"Always with the conditions," he teased, and she knew he was saying yes. Hermione smiled and began to talk.

* * *

"A dog, why would you want a dog?"

"Why wouldn't you? I would name him Rufus."

"God that just reminds me of Rufus Fruge in fifth year."

Hermione giggled, "He drools like a dog. Hey! Stop distracting me. Anyways, when I was eight…"

* * *

When she finished, he reluctantly began to talk. He hated talking about his life though. He hated letting people in.

But Hermione, she made it easy—constantly asking questions.

"I always thought you would hate them you know?"

"Why would I hate my parents?"

"I wouldn't like them to be my parents," she admitted. "I'm sorry if that offends you."

"It's different when you actually have them as parents," he defended, getting annoyed. "And it's none of your business."

She allowed the comment and moved on, rather than getting offended. She didn't want to ruin it.

"Why aren't you like this with other people?"

"How do you know I'm not?" he challenged.

"I just can't imagine Slytherins having heart to hearts."

"We aren't," he paused for effect, "for the record, having a heart to heart. That's demeaning."

"Whatever you say. So assuming I'm right,"

"When are you not," he interrupted.

"Why aren't you like this with other people?"

"I just don't want to."

"Every time I think I know you, Draco, I realize I don't."

He laughed. "You just try to hard to figure things out. People aren't meant to be figured out."

"I thought I knew you before tonight. But now I know I don't. And I think I know you now. But I'm prepared to believe I don't know you at all." _And that interests me. That draws me towards you. _She left those parts out. "I just wish—"

She paused, holding her tongue. Hermione reminded herself that she needed to keep her distance from him. She couldn't constantly reveal herself to him like that. Distance, she reminded herself, was necessary for her own good, for her own protection.

She scrambled up. "You know what? I should get back. I really shouldn't be here."

"What?" He stood up as well, surprise. "Why?" He was having fun!

"It's late and we're not allowed here and.." she shook her head, trailing off. She looked at him apologetically and headed off.

He stood stunned for a moment. Why the sudden change? What just happened?

He watched her scurrying away. Then realized that the night really helped clear his mind, because he found he really didn't care if he seemed eager.

"Hermione!" he called. He jogged to catch up with her. "I need to talk to you."

"We can talk later," she called, praying he would accept, but knowing he probably wouldn't.

"Hermione!" He was catching up.

She bit her lip and stopped walking, turning around, knowing her case was futile. Maybe it was time to talk about it…He walked closer.

"You want to talk more about muggles?" She asked hopefully, when he arrived. She was a coward. She knew.

He gave her a weird look. "About the kiss," he continued.

"What kiss?" she stammered. Chicken! She screamed to herself.

"What kiss?" he asked sarcastically, pleasantly surprised at her stammering, feeling more confident by the second.

She looked away, biting her lip.

He brought his thumb to her chin and gently tugged, loosening her trapped bottom lip. He bent down, and sucked gently on her bottom lip.

Distance? Hermione asked herself as she closed her eyes. What distance? She brought her hands up, prepared to wrap them around his neck.

He moved his attention to her top lip now, and suddenly, she pushed him away. "No, no, no!" she screamed, fighting an inner battle. She hated herself for wanting him to continue. And she hated herself even more for stopping him. "What are you doing?"

Draco wasn't scared anymore. He smirked cockily as she took a step back. Her eyes flashed, recognizing that he was laughing at her. "Kissing you." He said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You can't do that," she pointed out, frustrated with him.

He stepped towards her, still smirking. She wanted to wipe it off his face. "Then why'd you do it to me last night?"

"I wasn't thinking!" she defended weakly. "Lapse of judgement…no…temporary insanity!" she pleaded in her case.

"Can I 'not think' too then?" he asked, teasing her.

"No, you can't do that." She had given up getting away, seeing as logically, his legs were just so much longer. He would catch up in no time. She rested her hands on her hips, and glared.

Draco only laughed. "I think I'll do just that."

"No," Hermione said loudly, "you won't."

He laughed again. "If you say so," he sang. He winked at her. Winked! Really? She thought to herself. And then he headed back towards the castle, brushing past her. And this time, it was her that flushed with heat.

She shuddered. What did he mean, he'd do just that? She wasn't sure to be excited, or simply scared.

As Draco walked back towards the castle, he couldn't stop a grin. He decided that he liked the challenge. Maybe it'd be like a secret affair.

**A/N: Next chapter will be fun!**

**Why?**

**Because Draco is going to pull out his charms:) and annoy the hell out of Hermione, who will secretly like it.**

**:)**

**ANYWAYS:) I'm getting there people. I think you guys can generally see they're progressing in their own weird way towards a relationship.**

**YAY!:) **

**So what do you think, flirty for the whole chapter? Or halfish. I'm thinking whole chapter action! And definitely some Harry-Ron-what-is-wrong-with-you-Hermione-looks.**

**I'll try!**

**Peace and REVIEW!**


	17. Let the Games Begin

**Let the Games Begin**

She could feel him staring at her. There were goosebumps on her arms. When she felt she couldn't take this unnerving feeling anymore, she ripped a piece of paper off and scribbled, 'Could you quit?', sending it to him with her wand.

Draco smiled as he unfolded her message. 'No,' he wrote, looking up again as she bit her lip, jotted down some notes. 'I like the way you bite your lip. Cute. Makes me think of doing other things with it.'

As she read the note, she felt her quill drop to the stone floor, making a resounding noise in the middle of Professor Snape's lecture. She felt herself flush, and forced herself to believe it was because of all the eyes on her, when she knew the note has caused it.

"Is there a problem Ms Granger?"

"N-no," she stuttered. "Sorry."

Snape rolled his eyes, but continued.

Once she was sure, _absolutely sure, _that there were no more eyes left staring at her, she turned around to glare at Draco. She would have been much angrier if her heart wasn't pounding painfully in her chest.

He smiled and licked his lips. She feigned a puking motion with her finger hovering over her tongue, and turned around.

'You are such an arrogant—'

"Are you passing _notes?" _Harry mumbled, staring at her paper. She quickly covered it with her hands.

"No."

"Sure," he said, his tone clearly indicating otherwise.

"I'm serious!"

"Ms. Granger, what number do you choose?"

Hermione turned from Harry to Snape. "Number?" she squeaked.

"Number, yes, you know, like one, two, three.."

"Seventeen?"

"Seventeen," Snape mumbled as his eyes navigated through the list. "Yes, you'll me paired with Mr. Malfoy. I daresay this should be interesting."

Malfoy? Her hand shot up.

"What is it _now _Ms. Granger?"

"I change my mind. Sixteen!"

"Mister. Malfoy." Before she could protest again, he turned away and continued. "Alright now, Weasley. Pick a number. "

As the students finally partnered up, everyone shuffled to sit beside their partners. Hermione, albeit grudgingly, took her seat beside Draco. "I'll have you know I'm hating this," she said without further ado.

He leaned towards her, so that when he spoke, she could feel his hot breath against her ear. "Well, I'm loving _this." _She felt his knee 'accidentally' brush against her knee. Quite a few times.

As far as Hermione was concerned, Draco Malfoy could rot in hell.

"Stop staring at me," she hissed, unable to concentrate on the potion they were making.

"When you blush, you look pre—"

"Crap!" she cursed, as her knife slipped. Damnit, he was making her flustered!

He grabbed her hand, and she tried to ignore the fact that he could feel her erratic pulse through her wrist. She snatched her hand away.

She caught Harry sending her a half confused, half amused look. It was nice to know he was getting such a kick out of this. She didn't know whether to scream, yell, or both.

She decided he wasn't going to just rot in hell, he would rot in the darkest, deepest, hottest ditch in hell. And since she was feeling particularly vengeful, she hoped Voldemort would be there to accompany him. Hah. Take that!

Eventually, when she just about decided that time was going at the rate of a snail in a race to be the slowest, they finished the poem, and returned to their seats to complete a write up for it individually. It was probably the first time Hermione ever thought she would thank Snape.

"What was that all about?"

She shook her head, and continued scribbling away. What was she supposed to say?

"Why is Malfoy staring at you?"

Hermione froze. "Probably have a zit or something," she mumbled.

Harry leaned forwards, and looked up at Hermione. "Nope, all clear."

She bit her lip from laughing. "Still staring?"

"Yep."

Finally, the bell rang. She grunted, snatching her books up from her desk as she stood up. "Will you stop?!" she yelled, before she was aware of the fact that Draco was gone.

She quickly looked around, embarrassed. She began to walk away.

"Er..," Ron cleared his throat. Harry nudged him from behind.

"WHAT?!" she yelled, fuming.

Ron gulped, sending a frantic look towards Harry, who pretended not to see. He turned back to the impatient Hermione. "You're—"

"Well if you're not going to say anything," she mumbled, stomping away from her desk. Suddenly, she felt her right lace trapped under her left foot, and in her rush to leave, pulled a little too hard. She went flying forwards, her books tumbling out of her hands.

"—laces are undone?" Ron finished lamely, shrugging.

Luckily for her, a pair of arms caught her in time, before she did a full face plant on the dungeon floor. Who knew what had been there before?

Unluckily for her… "Really Hermione, isn't the whole fall and catch thing a _little _overused? Not that I mind the gesture," his soft voice whispered in her ear.

She didn't even need to look. "I tripped," she pointed out dully, trying her best to get over the fact that his arms were around her waist.

He helped her to a stand and gathered her books for her. "Tripping _all over _me," he said softly, as he handed her her books, sent her a smirk and walked away. She suddenly felt a pang of cold as the contact ended.

Hermione was about to throw her hands up in the air, but thought better of it seeing the books in her hands again. "Gahh," she moaned aloud, "let's just go."

"Are you okay Hermione?"

"Dandy," she mumbled sarcastically.

* * *

Her mood had improved slightly over the lunch hour. There was simply too many people present in the great hall for Malfoy to try anything funny. And she knew funny was all it was to him.

It was like a game, to tease her mercilessly. And she knew it too, which made her hate herself that much more for being affected by it.

It took all her willpower to not glance at him. Neville cracked a joke, and Hermione, along with the rest of the nearby Gryffindors, dutifully chuckled. She tucked her knees under her chin and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

"Hey Hermione, can I copy the DADA notes from last day right now?"

Hermione nodded, and dropped her legs back under the table to lean over and grab her bag. "Oh, I left it in the dorm. I'll go get it. I'll need it anyways."

She nodded to the group of them as she stood and left the hall.

She let herself into the dorm, and almost laughed at the site on the coffee table in front of her.

_I would have brought it for you, but I thought it'd look a little suspicious.  
P.S. Daisies are you favourite right? See, I was listening last night. _

It was outrageous, the game he was playing. She picked up the pair of stemmed white daisies off her DADA books, and stuck them in a vase, filling it halfway with water.

They were, after all, her favourite.

She grabbed her stuff, and left the room, smiling.

As the doors to the great hall neared within her sight, she felt someone pull her to the side. "Wha—" She looked up. Of course. "Are you stalking me?"

"Could I help it that I had to pee?" He shifted his arm so that it was resting gently against the small of her back.

"Conveniently when I left?" She asked, ignoring his hand.

"Actually, conveniently when I knew you were about to come back." He dazzled her with a true smile. "Was I right?"

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Yes, they were pretty." She paused, not knowing what to say. "Thank you." She decided that a thank you wasn't being flirtatious.

"Just pretty?" he pouted.

"Fine, beautiful."

He gently pushed the books down, away from her chest, where she had unknowingly held them, as a barrier between the two of them. Suddenly, she noticed how intimate the position they were in was.

"Like you," he whispered. Surprising himself, he found that it was genuine.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled. "We're in the middle of a hall," she whispered frantically.

"Stealing a kiss," he murmured, before capturing her lips. He felt her defences fall, and curse aloud when he heard a group of voices nearing.

He pulled away. "Until later."

Hermione shook her head, clearing her mind. "There won't be a later when I'm done with you!" she huffed, stomping away. The audacity of him!

As she entered the great hall again, she licked her lips. She loved peppermint.

"Why do you look so flustered Hermione?"

"Me? No. Here, the notes."

"Blimney, she's acting awfully weird today," Ron whispered loudly to Harry, which earned him a smack on the head from Hermione.

"Blimney Ron, you act like this every day, so I wouldn't be talking."

The rest of them laughed, and so they went on as lunch passed by. Soon enough, all of them were gathering their things, heading off to their separate classes. Harry and Ron accompanied Hermione towards their next class.

"I just think that its unfair—" she stuttered, seeing Draco ahead of them, walking the other way for some reason. She shook her head out of it. "—what was I saying?"

Harry sent her a weird look. "Elfs? Unfair treatment?"

"Right! Why do people belittle them?"

"They're bloody ugly, that's why," Ron mumbled.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. She shook her head. "They are just like any other magical—" she felt Draco walk by her, brushing his hand against hers. She gulped. "—m-magical creature…" She found that she couldn't gather her train of thought. She clasped her hands together. "Nevermind."

"What's this I hear? Hermione isn't going to lecture me?! Are you sick or something?"

"Oh shut it. I could start right now if you want."

"No. No. No thanks."

Draco Malfoy was driving her nuts. And, looking back, locking eyes with him, she knew that he knew it too.

* * *

Hermione gently hit her head against the backboard of the bed a few times. Not just any bed. The hospital bed.

_Hospital!_

Why was she in the hospital?

Well, it all started in Defence Against the Dark Arts, when the stupid teacher decided it would be smart to practice improving the basic shield charm. Come on, shield practice? What were they? First years?

As it happened, the two idiots, namely Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, decided to partner her with Neville! Now not to get her wrong, Neville was a great friend, and an even greater person, but not so great a wizard at times.

And then there was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy sending her these stupid heated glances, and winks, and all his other weird and stupid antics. And she, being a fool, had been stunned into such immobility that she ended up standing back to back with the fool. It was probably a part of his mastermind plan too. That pig.

And with their constant contact, how was she supposed to focus? Really! And besides, Neville's curses really weren't that strong anyways, so she simply held up a basic shield. Her mind was busy producing witty retorts to Draco's lame attempts at flirting.

In any case, how was she supposed to know that at the exact moment Draco brushed his hand with hers(on purpose mind you!) her hands would turn to jelly and she would lose grip of her wand and thus the shield.

And at the exact same time of course, Neville would finally produce a curse that actually hit the target?!

Thus, in the end, it was all freaking Malfoy's fault!

So that was that. And now, two hours later, she was all fixed up, not permitted to leave, and bored out of her mind.

A strand of hair fell over her face, and she decided to see how long she could keep it from falling back by continuously blowing at it.

She was at 30 seconds when she heard the door open.

"Bored?"

She lifted her hand and brushed the loose strand to the side, deciding her impromptu game was pointless. "Don't you have ancient runes now?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh, save it. You wanted to see the pig snout and pig tail coming out of my butt one last time. Well you're too late."

"That is actually such a pity."

"I'm glad at least my embarrassment brought some amusement."

"It did indeed.

"Well, you can go now."

"That wasn't the only reason I came."

"Oh? What now?"

He produced a daisy. "For the lady."

She touched the stem, finding it wet and laughed. "I cannot believe you just took the daisy that you _already _gave me and gave it to me again!"

He rolled his eyes and conjured a vase to put it in, setting it on the table beside her bed.

He was leaving when she noticed he had brought her a book to read too. She smiled.

"Hey Hermione?"

"What?"

"Did you unbutton those two buttons for me?" He was inferring the top few collar buttons she had popped open.

She brought her hand up to her chest, embarrassed, because she knew he could have seen her bra. "It's hot in here," she attempted to explain.

"Yeah, because I'm here."

She laughed. "Just go Draco."

"Too bad you missed ancient runes. I was planning to write you some heated love notes in symbol."

"Wow, too bad," she mumbled sarcastically. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Hey Draco, come here for a second?"

She let go of her hand over her chest, shifting so that she was on her knees. She tilted upwards as he towered over her and kissed him, long and hard, letting her hands wander up and down his chest, teasingly skimming the skin of his arms and the hair on his neck.

Then she pulled away.

"What are you going?"

"Turning the tables." She smiled. "Aren't you going to be late for class?"

"Aren't you going to kiss me again?"

Hermione chuckled. "I don't think so. Now if you excuse me, I have a book to read."

**A/N: Was that okay? I wanted to keep it sorta flirty but to show he was sweet for her too. :)**


	18. Friends or Foes

**Friends or Foes**

Hermione grinned when she spotted Draco and his friends, walking a little ahead of them. "Hey, I just need to grab my books from the dorm, I'll be back alright?" she hastily told Harry and Ron, before speeding up.

As she reached within a few feet of him, she felt herself walk into a wall of his strong cologne—a little woodsy, and musky, yet still fresh.

He was walking on the left hand side of his group. She smiled, and sped up, past him, making sure that her hand brushed with his as she did.

She heard Goyle, or Crabbe—she didn't know which—yell at her to watch where she was going. She resisted the sore urge to turn around a smirk, knowing that Draco was cursing her at this very moment. She wiggled her fingers, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling, before turning the corner at the next hall.

Further behind, Harry and Ron continued walking.

"Er Harry," Ron furrowed his brows. "Is it just me, or is her dorm not, that way?" He pointed behind them. "Like…the opposite way of where she was going?"

Harry ignored him. "Did you see that?" he exclaimed instead.

"See what?" Ron questioned, already forgetting his own previous question.

"Did she not just run herself into Malfoy?" Harry turned to Ron, bewildered.

Both paused for a moment. "Reckon she's finally cracked under the pressure," Ron mumbled.

* * *

Hermione had been somewhat telling the truth when she had told her best friends that she needed to get her books, she thought, as she walked along the halls scattered with people, textbooks for Charms and Transfiguration in hand.

She was humming her favourite muggle tune out loud, when she felt something reach out from the side and wrap itself around her hand.

"Wha—" She was fully prepared to scream when she felt the thing—which she had now determined to be the hand of a person—tug her towards it. That was, until she caught a whiff of the smell.

She felt her racing heart calm slowly, but couldn't steady it to normal around him. He had pulled her into one of the first year history rooms. "What are you doing?" she sighed, wrenching her arm out of his grasp.

He closed the door shut, before crossing his arms and leaning against it. "Are you crazy? In public? Out there, what were you thinking?!"

She snorted. "You mean, in front of your friends?"

He growled and walked towards her, so that he was standing in front of her. She, undeterred, only shrugged, leaning against the wall behind her.

He glared at her for a while, hoping to scare some sense into her. He was met by an unaffected Hermione, who seemed to be humming some stupid song, instead of paying attention to him. Frustrated, he gave up.

"Your hair's a mess today," he said, giving her a once over.

She frowned. "Well, not everybody spends hours on their appearances." Still, she lifted her hands to attempt to smooth it out.

"If it made a difference, you would too." He watched her attempt to tame her hair. "Oh don't bother." He rolled his eyes, secretly pleased as her mouth thinned, and she dropped her hands.

_5, 4, 3, 2…_she took a breath and counted in her head. "Well," she said calmly, "if all you were planning to do was insult me, I'd really rather be getting to class. We're going to be l—"

He leaned down and stole a brief kiss, lingering just long enough so that Hermione wanted more.

"Correction," he said, backing away, "you're going to be late. Unless, of course, you don't think it's suspicious if we show up at the same time."

"But, but—get back here Malfoy!"

The only response she got was the door silently clicking shut. She stomped her feet in frustration and swore she heard him chuckle outside as well. Damn it all. This game of theirs had been going on for nearly a week. And it was only supposed to be a one time thing—to satisfy her curiosity, her wants, her bloody _hormones. _

She never used to understand how people could get addicted after one smoke. Now she knew. How was she supposed to know he was like a drug? And one without nicotine too.

She shook her head at her own foolishness and walked out of the classroom, figuring enough time had passed. As she slipped into the charms class nearby, she mindfully didn't look his way. "Sorry professor, there was some trouble in the halls."

She could feel his smirk, knowing that she had lied.

He was a bad influence on her.

* * *

Draco yawned, unable to keep his attention on the boring charms professor, Flitwick. Truly, he had tried. Instead, his eyes wandered. He hated how his eyes travelled towards her first, and he forced himself to look away. Still, he couldn't forget what he saw. It figured that her hand would be raised.

He ignored her answer to Flitwick's question, instead, focusing on the piece of paper between the two girls in front of him.

Really, if people wanted to pass notes, they should make their writing smaller, and stop giggling. Still, curiosity begged at him, and he quickly scanned through. _Mitch Harper. Halloween Ball Rumors. _Crap he was supposed to be planning that with Hermione. He made a mental note to talk to her about it soon. _Hogsmeade this weekend. _

That was essentially the gist of it. He looked at his paper again, this time in thought. He wondered…but before he got to thinking too much, he felt Blaise nudge him.

"What?" he snapped, mostly for the sake of it. He wasn't really that angry.

"Class if over. Flitwick dismissed us early. Probably because nobody but Ms. Know-it-all was paying attention."

This was news to Draco, as he quickly looked over the room. Indeed, everyone was standing up and packing their stuff. "Awesome," he exclaimed, standing as well. He easily dumped all of his stuff in his bag, as he hadn't really taken much out to begin with. "Hey, I'll catch up with you at the Slytherin dorm."

"Where are you going?" Blaise asked, as he let Draco through, past him so that his friend could get to the aisle.

Draco hesitated for a short moment. "Got to find Granger." At Blaise's weird look, Draco laughed. "She is, after all, my fellow co –head." When Blaise continued to stare, Draco continued dully, "as in, if I don't tell her to plan the next Hogsmeade trip, you're not going on your date with Alexandria."

"Oh, right then. Hurry up!"

Draco chuckled, and climbed the steps, taking them by two as he saw Hermione's distinct head of hair slip through the door. "Hey Granger!"

Hermione thought she heard her name, but continued walking.

Draco slid through a gap in the crowd exiting the classroom. "Out of my way. Bloody! Granger!"

Hermione turned around, seeing his head in the crowd, and grabbed Ron's arm, pointing at Malfoy, before the three of them slipped through, waiting against the wall.

"God its like a stampeded," Malfoy muttered, reaching them, as he brushed off his sleeves.

"So dramatic," Hermione mumbled.

"What do _you _want?" Ron demanded, crossing his arms.

"Not _you," _Draco said, mimicking Ron.

They were so childish sometimes—

"I want Granger."

She did not just hear that. She looked from left to right, seeing Harry and Ron gaping.

"Wha—"

"No—"

"MALFOY!"

He raised his hands, in mock surrender and laughed. "Even if she wanted to," he said, speaking to Harry and Ron, "I wouldn't. Gross." Hermione wasn't certain whether she was offended, or relieved. She was, however, certain, he meant it as an insult, which annoyed her. "Head duties, boys."

Harry shook his head, visibly relieved. At Hermione's nodded, he pulled Ron away.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Hermione sighed. "Was that _really _necessary?"

"Absolutely."

By then, all of the students had cleared. "You know, there's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. Three days from now. "

Hermione gave him a _are-you-kidding-me? _look. "Yeah, I _ do _know that—seeing as I planned it and all. You would too if you actually helped me."

"Yeah, yeah whatever."

"You're helping plan the next one you know. Don't plan to stick it on me again." When he was about to speak, she raised a finger at him, in a silencing motion. "I'll tell Dumbledore if you don't."

He ignored her. "What would you say if I asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Surprisingly, Hermione didn't even have to hesitated. "I'd say yes….if I were a complete bumbling _idiot_. Even if you were _really _asking, I'd say no. And I _know _you're not really asking."

Draco considered, and shrugged. She was right. He just wanted to know.

"Anything else?" she asked him.

"Yeah, apparently _we_," at this, he glared at her, "need to plan the next Hogsmeade trip, and Halloween too."

She nodded. "Yeah, I was just thinking about that too. Actually, Kristi and Joan just reminded me in class."

"You mean you overhead them?" he chuckled, realizing that it had been the same girls that had reminded him too.

She nodded shyly, barely embarrassed.

"Yeah well, nonetheless.."

"If that's all then," she nodded down the hall. "I still have class after."

"Right, yeah that's all." Hermione nodded, preparing to walk away. "Oh Hermione?"

She turned around. "Are you going to Hogsmeade?"

She gave him a weird look, ignoring her sudden sweaty palms. "Yeah, with Ron. And Luna!" she hastily added, not knowing why. "Harry's staying back with Ginny."

"Are you?"

"With Blaise."

She acknowledged his answer and turned back around, wondering why she felt she even had to answer him or ask.

* * *

Hogsmeade came and went, and now, Hermione sat curled up with a pillow in her lap, and a blanket over her knees, in the common room area.

She stretched. "So…" she began, "I'm going to have to say I told you so. And you laughed at me when I was doing my work yesterday afternoon."

"It was a Saturday afternoon! Nobody in their right minds does homework then!" he defended.

"Well, now it's a Sunday night, and guess who _isn't _working? Oh right. Me." She yawned.

"Hey if you're tired, you can go sleep," Draco said, looking up and noticing her tired eyes.

She smiled and shook her head. "It's fine. You're almost done anyways." She leaned forwards and read over his shoulder. "Right there," she stretched her hand out, pointing at his line. "it's ragweed we used, not grassweed."

At first, he had found her doing that annoying. Not, he found that it was sort of nice, and helpful. And he figured she really wasn't doing it to annoy him on purpose. It was just what she did.

"Anything else?"

"Is that a cat of cut?"

He rolled his eyes. "When do you ever cat an ingredient?"

"Mm," she murmured thoughtfully. "That's all then." She grabbed his previous pages off the desk, and sat back, reading over them silently as he worked. "Mind if I…?" she asked, pointing her wand at his paper, indicating that she wanted to make some changes.

He shook his head, no.

After a while, he sighed. "Finally." Hermione looked up.

"Done?"

He nodded.

"One sec," she made a quick change to his paper. "Alright here you go."

"Thanks."

She nodded, standing up, pulling down her polka dot pajama pants that were riding up a little. "Not a problem. Goodnight then."

She began to walk away as he headed towards his room.

"I'm calling your bluff."

She paused. "My what?"

"I think you'd go if I asked."

"To Hogsmeade? _With you?"_ She laughed. "Now why would I do that?"

"Because you harbour a secret burning desire for me. That, or a small crush."

"What gives you that idea?"

"All girls do."

"Well, I'm sorry to poke a needle into your gigantic egotistical bubble, but only a fool would fall for you," she said rather genuinely. She smiled, thinking to herself, telling herself. "I'm not a fool."

* * *

"Harry! Harry! Have you seen Dr—Malfoy?"

Harry looked back to see his best friend jogging to catch up with him. "No why?"

"Dumbledore caught me in the halls just now and sais he wants to meet with the heads soon, preferably within the next few days."

"Oh, well, we have lunch now. You can catch him there."

Hermione nodded and fell into step beside him as they walked down the hall.

"Is something the matter Hermione?"

She frowned. "No, not at all."

Harry looked rather unconvinced.

"Why?"

"It's just that, we've noticed you've been acting a little…." he considered how to word it nicely, "…weird lately. And if Ron notices, that means its not just a teeny bit. And we're worried Hermione."

She smiled, touched. She lay a hand on his arm. "I'm fine, truly."

"You know you can tell us _anything."_

"I know. Hey, you know what?"

"Mm?"

"I don't really want to talk to Draco in front of his friends. I think I'd rather catch him out here, so you go ahead alright?"

"Yeah, that's fair. I'll see you inside," Harry replied as he made a right and headed towards the great hall.

Hermione leaned against the wall. Draco would either be coming from the direction they had just walked from, or the direction just opposite of where Harry had turned, just around the corner to the left. She figured she'd have to catch him.

Waving to occasional friends as they passed her, she bit her time. Until she heard voices coming from the other side of the corner.

"It's not just me that thinks it Draco."

Hermione flattened herself against the wall in reaction, even though she knew if they were to walk into the intersection of the two hallways, they would immediately see her. Her ears trained, no purposefully, to the conversation. Who was Draco talking to? It sounded a little like Blaise.

"Frankly Blaise," confirming Hermione's guess, "I don't really care."

"Well you should," he stated simply. "Look they don't know yet but I do, and I'm worried. What the fuck is up with you and Granger?"

"God nothing could _ever _be up with Granger and I. Not like that."

Hermione bit her lip. She should be relieved shouldn't she?

"That's disgusting."

Hermione felt her first clench as she uncrossed her arms and brought them to her side. Did he have to go that far?

"Get her out of your system yet?"

"Just about."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she couldn't help the wash of sadness as it came over her. But then again, she expected it.

"You guys aren't actually friends are you?" Blaise asked, truly curious.

Both boys were unaware of her presence around the corner. She held her breath. Draco was better than that. Draco wouldn't—

"How could she ever be my friend Blaise? She's nothing but the head girl. She's nothing to me. " Draco asked, coolly. That, however, she didn't expect from him. Hermione's heart plummeted. He could call her gross, or any names that he wanted to, and it couldn't hurt as much as that line itself could. She thought they were friends! She thought, for a while, that she was _something _to him. Sure, she didn't expect him to announce it to the world, but how could he denounce them like that? How could he make it sound like such an impossible thing? What did he think they were?

She felt a stinging in her eyes, but quickly shook it away. God she should've known.

She treated him like a friend, and it was all just an act for him.

It was all just insincere games to him. He was right. How could she ever be his friend? How could she let herself believe that she could. She closed her eyes and grimaced, hating how this was affecting her. She should be immune to this. How could he? To go behind her back and talk like this. To be one way around her and a complete different person behind her back.

Merlin she hated him! She hated him so much! He had never changed! He was still the same old prick. If only she could erase everything that happened between them, then she could fully hate him with all her heart once again and it wouldn't hurt so much.

Blaise rolled his eyes but stopped talking as they stepped into the intersection, looking down the halls to the left and right of them to find it empty.

"I swear I heard someone," Blaise murmured, looking at Draco. He found his friend staring at the hall to the right of them.

Draco swallowed. "We did," he said simply. And it had been Hermione.


	19. Play Safe with Matches

**Play Safe with Matches**

Hermione heard Draco's footsteps an instant before she heard the pounding on her door.

"Open the door! Hermione!"

Draco ran a hand nervously through his hair and pounded on the door again. He swore he heard sniffling inside. God, if she was crying…he mercilessly beat the door.

"Please! Hermione! Let me explain! It's not what you think!"

Unimpressed, Hermione pulled the comb through her hair one last time before swivelling around on her stool and padding her way to the door. Still with her comb in hand, and acutely aware of the short polka-dot pyjama shorts she was wearing, she opened a crack in the door, about an inch wide, hiding her body behind it. "Yes?" She arched her brows.

Taking a step back, he took in her calm exterior—he had been fully expecting puffy eyes and a red nose. He dropped his hands to his sides. "Aren't…aren't you upset?"

She looked up into his face. "Do I look upset?"

Draco shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. "You don't have to pretend.." he began.

She rolled her eyes. "Nobody's pretending Draco."

"Then why are you hiding behind the door?" he pointed out.

She sighed, and stepped back, opening the door fully. His eyes roamed down, before returning upwards. Not that Draco cared much about her shorts that barely covered anything, he still admired her modesty.

She contemplated stepping towards him, but decided to stay within the safety and comfort of her own room. "Draco," she began, "I'm really not upset at all." She even smiled, to show him. "Or angry," she added, before he could suggest that, "or sad..or anything."

Her words sent a chill down his body, dousing all emotions in him. He wondered why it bothered him so much that she was so unaffected. Realizing that he had wanted her to be hurt and upset made him frown. He searched her eyes, for any deception, or any hidden feelings, but found that, as predicted, he couldn't read her at all. He couldn't read her when she put up a wall between them, as she was doing at that moment. Frustrated, and confused, he muttered, "but you were there, around the corner. You heard everything."

"I admit," Hermione continued evenly, almost coldly, "I did overhear your conversation." She gulped, and then lied. "It's better that way anyways, isn't it? Our friendship..."

Seeing his surprised expression, and misundestanding it, she added hastily. "if you could even call it that of course…should remain a secret. You're right. I understand." She took a deep breath, and smiled through her teeth. "It's what I expected."

Draco shook his head. Surely, it shouldn't be so easy for him. He had insulted her. He had betrayed her.

"Draco?" She waved her hand in front of his face. "Are you still there?"

"Huh," he muttered, blinking.

"I said it's late. You should get to bed," she said softly, making a move to close the door.

"Wait!" he called out, pushing against the door with his right hand.

Hermione paused, her hand on the knob.

He tried to speak, but couldn't summon the words. "I'm sorry," he said finally, dropping his hand, locking his gaze with hers.

She looked away quickly, fearing she would fall for his words, and his apology. Hermione nodded with a small smile, and clicked the door shut. Standing by the door silently, she waited until she heard his heavy sigh, followed by his footsteps fading away. Hermione let go of her sweaty grip on the brass doorknob, and spun around, falling against the door with a soft thump.

Sliding down the length of the door until she was seated on the ground, she released a tight breath and let her head fall back against the frame. She closed her eyes.

A memory flashed in her mind; it was the one where her mother had caught her fiddling with the matches as a child.

"Don't play with fire, young lady. Eventually, you'll get burned," her mother had said, as she blew out the small flame between Hermione's fingers.

Hermione opened her eyes, and smiled bitterly. How right her mother had been. Well, it took her nearly nine years, but Hermione finally felt the fire. Because Draco Malfoy was fire. And if she wasn't too careful, "I'll get burned," she whispered out loud.

She had lied to Draco. Hearing those words _had _hurt. To hear him voice all of her insecurities.

"_How could she ever be my friend Blaise? She's nothing but the head girl. She's nothing to me. " _

But he had made it seem like they could be friends. And she, she had foolishly let herself believe it. She truly believed him. She felt the familiar sting in her eyes, and refused to let her hurt form tears.

Oh, of course she had been angry at first. Furious actually. But slowly, her anger towards him had simmered into anger at herself.

She was the world's biggest idiot. She knew it now. Hermione had been wrong, she had to admit it. She had thought she could handle it—handle him. And believing that, she had let her emotions for him flourish. Now she couldn't stop herself. She didn't know _how._

She sank to the floor fully, and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

She liked him. She liked him, and his words stung as much as him physically slapping her would have.

But what could she do now?

Hermione supposed the only thing she could do was be thankful for the loud wake-up call he had inadvertently given her. At least now, she could pull out before she got herself any deeper.

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly and pulled herself to her feet, leaving the comb on the ground by the door. She dragged her feet towards her bed, and fell in it.

She had once said, at the beginning of her flirty games with Draco, that she would keep her distance. She had failed, but she wasn't going to fail again. Because this time, there was something at stake. This time, she was determined not to get burned.

* * *

From across the room, Draco searched her face. His eyes roamed every inch of her face. She was staring determinedly straight ahead, and hadn't looked his way once since the beginning of the class.

He knew she was angry. He just _knew _it.

In the morning, she had dodged out of the dorm with only a few words to him, but he had simply but that aside as nothing. But once class started, he knew something was off. Not only did she avoid every attempt he made at making eye contact, she hadn't attempted to tease, or even talk to him.

He felt something inside of him, and he was almost sure it was desperation. He _needed _her to look at him. Just to glance at him when she thought he wasn't looking, like she used to.

He needed her to just look at him, so he would know that he would be able to fix this.

"Dude," Crabbe murmured, looking in the direction Draco was looking, his eyes completely roaming past the Golden Trio, "what's so interesting?"

Draco nearly growled. "Nothing," he snapped.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you aware that your potion is green?"

Draco looked towards his teacher, "yeah?" he asked, forcing himself to look away from Hermione. He was almost afraid he would miss her glancing at him.

"Just telling you."

Hermione smiled at something Ron said, even as her forehead scrunched as she heard Snape comment on Draco's potion.

She hoped he would figure out that his potion was supposed to be red. She bit her lip to force herself from talking, shaking her head as she picked up her quill and returned to writing out the procedure.

"Oh crap, Crabbe! You _imbecile! _You forgot to add the powder! It's supposed to be red!"

Hermione smiled at her paper.

"Can I still add it now? It doesn't matter right?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned towards the two of them to see Draco watching her. She could almost see the smugness in his eyes as he turned away with a smile. She huffed, angry at herself, as she heard Draco tell Crabbe how to fix the potion.

* * *

"Hermione!" Draco called, as he saw her slipping out the door. He swore, realizing that he should have anticipated her leaving as soon as the bell rang to get away from him. He swept all his things off the desk and into his back in one go, and rushed out the door. He cursed again, looking down the hall, failing to see her.

Hermione ducked in one of the classroom entrances, and carefully peeked around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief as Draco walked in the other direction.

Avoiding him wasn't nearly as easy as she thought it would be.

* * *

Draco didn't see Hermione at lunch, and he even entertained the idea of questioning her two sidekicks, four eyes and red head, but regained some sense before he actually did it.

Thank god for that.

Still, he ventured back to the common room in hopes she would be there, but didn't put too much hope in finding her there. If she were avoiding him, as she so clearly was, then she wouldn't go back there.

And he didn't know where else she would be.

It only occurred to him afterwards, as he saw her slip out of the library with a neat stack of books in hand, that she would have been in the most obvious place for her to be. Of course.

And before he could even react, she had disappeared.

However, Draco wasn't too disappointed. He would see her in class afterwards, and this time, he wouldn't let her get away.

* * *

"Granger!"

He caught up to her with a few long strides, grabbing her arm with his hand. She sighed aloud. She had been so close. That was the last class of the day too.

She stopped walking, and glared at him. "Let go."

"I need to talk to you."

She tried to wrench her hand free, but his grip held her firmly. "Let go of me," she grit out.

He could see her anger radiating off him, and smiled inwardly at the little pout of her lips. Over the day, he had been surprised to see how much he missed her, how much he missed their banter, their flirting, and even the times when they weren't flirting or arguing. So he wasn't going to let her go until she heard him out.

"You're causing a scene," he said slowly, tugging her towards the side. She looked around.

"I don't care, where are you taking me?!" She tugged at her arm again, desperate to get away from him.

He shook his head, and leaned towards her, whispering in her ear. "I think I'm going to kiss you. So you decide, right here? Or somewhere more private?"

He felt her glare at him. "Nowhere," she hissed, but nevertheless let him pull her into a empty classroom.

He only let go of her arm when he closed the door, and positioned himself directly in front of the only exit.

She immediately took a step back, away from him, and that didn't escape his notice.

He watched her look anywhere in the room, but at him, and felt a small pang in his chest.

He took a step towards her.

She anticipated his move, and blocked his hands, slapping his hands away when he attempted to bring his hand to her face. She took another step back.

Draco fell back, knowing he couldn't push it. "Hermione," he said softly.

She shook her head.

"Look, I'm not going to kiss you if you don't want me to."

"I know," Hermione said, looking at him for the first time.

"Don't back away, please?" he asked, as he took another step towards her. She didn't back away.

"I know you're angry—"

"I'm not!" she protested, shaking her head wildly back and forth.

"You are!"

"I'm not angry at you!"

"You ignore me all day, you're acting like…I don't know! If you're mad, just say it!"

"That's what I'm saying! I'm _not _mad!" Hermione screamed, raising her hands.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the spot. "Then what's wrong?" he nearly groaned.

How could she tell him that she was merely protecting herself? How could she tell him that it was hard for her too? But it was necessity.

Draco knew she was thinking. He could nearly see her mind churning. With his hands still holding her arms down to her side, he leaned in, and before she could react, placed his lips on her.

And in his kiss, he conveyed what he couldn't put in words, even in his head. He told what he couldn't even figure out himself.

His kiss was apologetic, but at the same time, it was demanding. He needed her. He cared for her. And…there was no way in hell she was _nearly close _to be out of his system.

She pulled back, just as surprised as he was by the difference in that kiss than the others. Where the others had been teasing, and flirty—almost meaningless, this one had been different.

Hermione tugged her arms free, but didn't go anywhere.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and Draco felt as if he couldn't breathe, waiting for her response.

He had been expecting her to storm out angrily, maybe even slap him first, at least glare at him, but all she did was simply open her eyes and stare at him--almost in wonder.

"Draco…what exactly are we doing? What are we?" she breathed. Hermione paused, continuing hesistantly. "What am I...to you?" she said the last part in barely a whisper, and he had to strain to hear it.

She continued to look up at him, waiting for a response, knowing that by asking that, she had done the exact opposite of what she hoped to do.

She silently berated herself. What did she hope to accomplish by asking such a question? But she knew it in her heart, she knew she wanted more.

And waiting for his answer, every second that passed by caused her heart and hopes to plummet a step down, until she felt herself hit the floor.

How could she be so _stupid? _Not only did she completely embarass herself...she shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor.

Draco knew what it meant, what she was saying. She was asking him what he wanted from her. A relationship...or not...in other words.

But he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to decide this. He never thought she would ask this of him, to be honest.

He searched her face...for what, he didn't know.

He remembered what she had said last time.

_"What would you say if I asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me?"_

_Surprisingly, Hermione didn't even have to hesitated. "I'd say yes….if I were a complete bumbling __idiot. Even if you were __really asking, I'd say no. And I __know you're not really asking."_

So she knew didn't she? She knew that he could never be the guy right for her. And, Draco told himself, she would understand why he was letting her walk away.


	20. Giving Us a Chance

**A/N: I'm BACK! And, as promised, with a new chapter! Since it's been so long, I just included the last few lines of the previous chapter, just to refresh your memory. :) Thanks for being patient!**

RECAP:

"_Draco…what exactly are we doing? What are we?" she breathed. Hermione paused, continuing hesistantly. "What am I...to you?" she said the last part in barely a whisper, and he had to strain to hear it._

_She continued to look up at him, waiting for a response, knowing that by asking that, she had done the exact opposite of what she hoped to do._

_She silently berated herself. What did she hope to accomplish by asking such a question? But she knew it in her heart, she knew she wanted more._

_And waiting for his answer, every second that passed by caused her heart and hopes to plummet a step down, until she felt herself hit the floor._

_How could she be so __stupid? __Not only did she completely embarass herself...she shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor._

_Draco knew what it meant, what she was saying. She was asking him what he wanted from her. A relationship...or not...in other words._

_But he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to decide this. He never thought she would ask this of him, to be honest._

_He searched her face...for what, he didn't know._

_He remembered what she had said last time._

"What would you say if I asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Surprisingly, Hermione didn't even have to hesitated. "I'd say yes….if I were a complete bumbling idiot. Even if you were really asking, I'd say no. And I know you're not really asking."

_So she knew didn't she? She knew that he could never be the guy right for her. And, Draco told himself, she would understand why he was letting her walk away._

_

* * *

  
_

**Giving Us a Chance**

Draco ran a hand through his hair as he bit down on his bottom lip. He looked off to the side, unsure of what to do, acutely aware that she was walking away from him already.

Mouthing a swear word, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

Hermione froze.

Draco tugged her back towards him, staring down at her for a moment, trying to judge her reaction. She didn't look disgusted—merely, surprised—and he supposed that was all he could hope for. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer towards him.

He held her tightly until he felt the tense muscles in her back relax.

Hermione felt herself loosen in his arms. She had all but given up a minute ago. Letting go of the breath she was holding, she looked at his arms around her for a moment. Slowly, shyly, she brought her arms to wrap around his body, and, afterwards, buried her face into his chest.

Draco rested his chin on top of her head, and felt relief course through his body. He didn't know what he did to deserve her forgiving him. He held her for a little while longer, revelling in the feeling of having her close to him, fitting so perfectly.

_What was she to him? _He honestly didn't really know. He couldn't really say. But he knew that he couldn't live every day like today, without her bothering him, laughing at him, laughing with him…it didn't feel right.

"Does this mean…" he heard her murmur. He let her go and took a step backwards.

She regarded him carefully. She gulped, suddenly feeling cold. "Look," she said, trying to put some strength in her words, "I'm not going to just put myself out there again. So make up your mind Draco."

She allowed him time to think. Still unable to shake off the feeling of having his arms wrapped around her, she shivered.

Draco knew he wanted her. But he understood why he wasn't able to easily agree to go out with her. It wasn't as if he hadn't gone out with girls before. Quite the contrary actually. It was that…well…she was his friend, and she _meant _something to him. He knew he would hurt her.

That…and he could only imagine what the others would say. Merlin, he couldn't even admit he was _friends _with her.

He had to say no. Whether to protect her, or to protect himself and his reputation, he had to say no.

"I--," he began. He stuttered as he, for the first time, caught sight of the vulnerability in her eyes. "It's not that I don't want to," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "Then what?"

He tried a different approach. "I'm not the type of guy you would date Hermione."

"Because you would know right? You would know better than me?"

"Don't make this difficult Hermione."

"Me? _I'm_ making this difficult? You're the one making it difficult, _Draco." _ She said this bitterly, feeling rejected once again. However, this time she was a little angry. If he was going to reject her, he shouldn't have pulled her back, acting as if he had changed his mind.

He sighed, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to explain himself. "I…I just don't want to hurt you."

Hermione softened. "You're not going to hurt me Draco," she insisted.

"I don't have a good track record. And I'm telling you now, don't romanticize. Don't think you're going to be the one to change me."

She knew he was saying these things to deter her, but he had hit the mark. She _had _thought about being the one to change him—be the 'different' one, the 'special' one. He was right.

But maybe…

"Let's just say," she said slowly, "I know what you're like."

She waited, seeing the reluctance in his face. "You know what," she forced a smile, which turned out more like a grimace, "forget it. I won't bother you with this again, and I promise not to avoid you." And even though she knew it would be hard for her to act like she didn't like him, to flirt with him knowing that, to him, it was just that—harmless flirting—she would do it anyways. "We can still be friends again right?"

Draco knew that that was what he wanted, but didn't feel too happy about achieving it.

She nodded to herself, suddenly feeling terribly embarrassed at the entire situation and rejection, and awkward. Tiptoeing, she kissed him on the cheek. One last time, she promised herself. "I'll be in the Gryffindor common room for a bit." She shrugged sheepishly. "Pumping up for the game tomorrow, which you know of, of course, since you're in it and all," she babbled, biting her lip. "Good luck with that by the way, although I'll be rooting for Harry. You know…best friend and all. Although you're my friend too. We're friends right?..."

Draco was amused. Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked so flustered. He suddenly felt a surge of tenderness for her.

"…I'm babbling aren't I?"

"A little," he admitted.

"I'm just…going to go now, before I embarrass myself more than I already have." She looked at him quickly, still harbouring a faint hope that he would change his mind, before turning away.

"Hermione?"

She didn't dare look back.

"After the game, if I lose, would you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Hermione smiled slowly, and then fully grinned. It wasn't exactly the relationship she had hoped for, but it was a compromise that she would accept. "I'll buy you a butterbeer for consolation."

Draco, too, felt a smile on his own face as he watched her walk away.

* * *

"Hermione?" Ron bent down from his standing position and waved his hand in front of her face. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Perfect even," she laughed wholeheartedly, "why wouldn't I be?"

Harry, who appeared behind Ron, caught her last few words. "Well, because you spent the whole day as if Voldemort were after you, and now, you can't stop smiling."

"She just giggled to herself Harry. _Giggled._ Blimey, I think we ought to take her to Madame Promfrey. Run a few tests y'know."

"Merlin, you guys are just exaggerating." She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Can't I be happy?"

"Can't you stop smiling?" muttered Ron under his breath, but Hermione didn't hear him.

She jumped up from her seat. "Shoo Ron, I have to talk to Harry."

"But—"

"Ron!"

Ron rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, walked away, joining another group of seventh years in the common room.

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry laughed. "Someone must've spiked the punch at dinner," he mumbled.

"I didn't even drink punch, alright," Hermione said, hearing his comment. "Anyways, I have something vitally important to tell you."

"What is it?"

"You _have _to win tomorrow."

Harry chuckled. "Slytherin's a tough team you know."

"No! You don't understand. You _have _to win."

"Um.." Harry frowned as he noticed her expression turn serious.

"Just win it!"

"Um…okay," he stuttered, slightly frightened.

"Alright?!"

His eyes widened. "Okay…I mean….YES! Yes, right?"

Satisfied, Hermione smiled again. "You better," she said simply.

Sometimes, Harry thought to himself as he walked away, he didn't know what was running through that brain of hers.

Suddenly, he heard the clinking of a glass. The room settled down, until nobody was speaking. Seamus, on a table in the middle of the room, raised his glass of pumpkin juice. "To beating Slytherin!" he toasted.

Hermione raised her own glass up high. "To beating Draco," she smiled.

* * *

The next day sped by quickly for Hermione, who was unable to focus on any of her studies. As the last bell chimed, marking the end of the school day, Hermione hurried out of class. She headed to the quidditch pitch with her school bag, hoping that she would be able to beat the onslaught of students and get a spot in the front row.

Although there was already a steady flow of students entering as she made it to the stands, most of the students were still putting their books away. She found a spot for herself in the front row and dropped her bag on the ground between her feet.

Hermione crossed her arms and leaned over the railing, waiting for the game to begin. She scanned the growing crowd for familiar faces, and waved at Ginny a few rows above, where the seats were.

Finally, when it seemed that the stands wouldn't be able to hold another person, a deceivingly demure figure appeared in the center of the field. Slowly, as Madame Hooch mounted her broom and rose to the level of the crowd, the audience settled.

With a short announcement, declaring the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, she waved in the players, who, as per usual, circled the stadium amidst the explosive cheering.

Although Draco flew by without catching sight of her, she knew he would see her later. Instead, she focused on waving to Harry and Ron, who both waved back eagerly.

As the players took their positions, Madame Hooch whistled loudly, throwing the quaffle high up into the air. "Let the game begin!"

"Richard Hamilton catches the quaffle—oh! But he loses it quickly as Jamieson sends a bludger flying his way. And Gryffindor takes the ball….and they score early in the game! Ten nothing, Gryffindor!"

The expected eruption occurred, as the stands shook under the pressure. Hermione screamed, jumping up. She swore she saw Draco smirk and raise an eyebrow at her.

The game continued fairly similarly—with the lead never exceeding 20 points for either team, when suddenly, Harry darted forwards. Draco, from the other end of the field, dived steeply down before darting in the same direction.

"Taylor!" he yelled as he flew by, "hit a bludger at Potter! NOW!"

In the short second that his eyes caught Harry skilfully avoid the little black ball, he lost sight of the snitch. "Crap!" He hit the handle of his broom with his hand, and squinted, trying to find the little golden ball. The only consolation for him was that he could see Harry doing the same.

Suddenly, he felt the familiar twittering by his ear. In one swift motion, he jerked his broom around and darted to the right, his eyes locking onto the snitch. He could hear Harry's broom behind him.

Draco pressed himself closer to his broom, and squinted as he increased his velocity. Harry steadied himself beside Draco, moments behind. The snitch was circling the stadium, just in front of the people in the first row, and the two seekers were following closely behind.

Draco caught sight of Hermione ahead, cheering for Harry. In a split second decision, he rightened his body slightly, which slowed him down, allowing Harry too pass him by seconds.

Moments later, Harry had the snitch in his hand, and the right side of the pitch exploded in victorious chants.

He nodded his head, apologizing graciously to his teammates as they swept past him in their descent. He flew a little higher, catching sight of Hermione, who was slipping the shoulder strap of her school bag over a head, her smile glimmering brightly.

She shrugged and frowned as they locked eyes, and jerked her thumb in both directions, indication she didn't know where to go.

Hermione saw him jerk his head towards the school, and mouth _common room, _indicating that he didn't want her to wait for him there. She nodded, and waited for him to descend safely into the Slytherin team entrance tunnel, jump off his broomstick, and stride out of the stadium before leaving herself.

She felt the urge to skip, as her smile grew. She knew he would _never _admit it, but…

Draco had _let _Gryffindor win.

* * *

"Two butterbeers please," Hermione called for, as she took a seat in a booth in Hogsmeade opposite Draco. She shrugged off her thin coat, and thanked the waitress as she set the drinks down on the table.

She picked one up and handed it to Draco, grabbing the other one for herself. "Cheers."

"Cheers? I lost."

"Exactly why it deserves a cheers," retorted Hermione, who still had her glass up. Draco shook his head, but brought his own drink up too, clinking glasses with her.

"Whatever."

Hermione took a sip of her drink before setting it down, waiting until Draco set his down too.

"Sooo…"

Draco cleared his throat, suddenly unsure of what to say. "They changed the cups here." He berated himself in his mind. _Stupid. Stupid comment. _

Hermione looked down. "I suppose they were getting pretty old anyways," she conceded.

"I mean, they've been the cups we were using since first year."

"Um Draco, we never came here 'till third year. We weren't allowed remember?"

"Well, _you _may not have come. _I, _on the other hand—"

"—of course," she cut in, rolling her eyes. Of course he would break the rules.

An awkward silence settled over them as Hermione fidgeted with her cup, tasting her drink once in a while. Draco, after watching her for a few moments, looked around the fairly deserted restaurant. As he was trying to read a sign out the window, he heard giggling from the person across from him.

The giggling turned to laughter, as she threw her head back, her eyes scrunching up in delight. She looked beautiful.

"What's so funny?" he demanded, shaking himself out of it. "Stop it Granger, you're making people look!"

"It's just--," she struggled, trying to regain her composure, "how do you date so many girls, when you're dating skills are so blatantly—"

He frowned. "Blatantly what?"

"Bad," she finished, snorting.

"My dating skills are brilliant," he growled.

"Yeah…um…you just talked to me about cups. "

"At least it wasn't the weather! That's what you would have said!"

"Actually, it's worse than the weather. Cups!"

Offended, Draco angrily set his cup down. "You've probably never even been a date before," he accused.

"I have!"

"Weasley doesn't count," he smirked. "And Krum doesn't either," he managed to add, as he suddenly recalled the vision of Hermione as she made her entrance at the Yule ball a few years back. He gulped, swarming with jealousy now.

"Ve have a big castle, I am telling you. Ve have pretty floors too. And big grounds. Though in the vinter, we are not enjoying them. Did you hear me, Hermy-own-ninny!" She burst out laughing after imitating Viktor Krum, and Draco had to smile as well.

"He actually called you Hermy-own-ninny?" he laughed.

"All night! Well, at first it was Hermy-own. I don't think Hermy-own-ninny was much better though." She giggled. "Wow, that was so long ago." She took a quick sip.

With this, the tension between them slowly faded. Hermione looked up.

"I always wondered…" she began, "actually, nevermind."

Draco frowned. "Go on. What?"

"I just..I could never figure out what you would do after Hogwarts."

"After Hogwarts?"

She nodded.

"I don't really know…"

"But you have to have things you want to do though.."

"Like what?" Draco wondered aloud.

"Well, I want to travel around Europe for a bit, leave England for a while you know. I think the first place I'd go is Greece. It just sounds so beautiful. I've never been there before."

"It _is _beautiful." Intrigued, he urged her to continue. "What else?"

"Write a book," she continued thoughtfully. She looked at him, grinning. "Get a tattoo."

"A tattoo? You?" Draco laughed. "Not a chance."

"I will!" Hermione protested. "Just a small one though."

Draco shook his head, still not believing her. "Go on."

"I don't know," she said, "but everyone has things they want to do."

"I really don't," he admitted.

"Haven't you ever watched 'A Walk To Remember'?"

He looked at her, confusion etched on his face. "What's that?"

"A movie!"

"Movie?"

"It's a muggle thing, sort of like….a bunch of moving pictures put together. Anyways, it's about this girl who is going to die, and how she falls in love with a boy, and the boy does everything he can to help her accomplish her whole list of things she wants to do."

"It honestly…sounds stupid," Draco said dully. "Why would I want to watch…a thing—"

"—movie—"

"—movie, about someone dying?"

"The point is that they're still happy, and it's touching."

"No…it's stupid."

She rolled her eyes. "I bet you would like it. I have the book. I'll lend it to you."

"Thanks," he said, "but no thanks. I'm not going to read it."

"Oh, yes you are."

"No, I'm really not."

"I'll bring it for you next time, when I visit home." She suddenly turned around and rummaged through her bag. Draco watched curiously as she pulled out a pen.

She pushed her napkin so that it sat at the center of the table, and handed him the pen. "Imagine you were going to die in a month."

"Really?" He sighed. "Do I _have _to do this? I'm not going to die in a month."

"Yes, you are. Now, what would you want to accomplish before then?"

"Er…kiss a girl."

"You can't write something you've already done!" she protested, as he wrote it on the napkin.

He scribbled out 'a girl' and wrote Hermione over top.

"You've done that too," she murmured.

"Well, what if I want to do it again?"

Hermione blushed. "Stop it," she laughed. "Get serious!"

"Okay okay, fine. How about, win the cup this year?"

"Girls and quidditch. Do you _ever _think about anything else?" she teased, even as she nodded her approval.

* * *

"Okay, so do you keep the list, or do I?" Draco asked, as he held the door open for Hermione.

"Well, it's your list…" she said, waiting for him to fall into step beside her.

"But I thought you were going to help me accomplish it."

"But you're not really dying," she pointed out.

He huffed. "Fine," he spat out, stuffing the napkin in his pocket.

Hermione laughed, and swung her hands as she walked. Draco slowly slid his hands out of his pocket, fighting the urge to wrap it around hers.

He gulped, pulling his eyes quickly away from her hands to the path back to the school in front of him.

Suddenly, he felt something warm slip into his hand, and he tightened his hand around it. He let her pull his arm back and forth, continuing in her swinging motion, feeling a little childish, but happy nonetheless.

"Was the date really so horrible?" he asked, as they approached the school.

She turned to look at him, letting go of his hand as they neared. "No," she admitted slowly, "it was actually pretty good."

"Just pretty good?" He pretended to pout. "Next time, I'll have to convince you otherwise."

Her heart fluttered at his words—_next time. _


	21. After Sex Glory

**After Sex Glory**

Harry didn't know when it had happened, but as he watched Hermione wave goodbye to Ron and Lavender a few feet away, he realized he had seen a lot less of her in recent weeks.

"—Ronald Weasley! You never make time for me anymore!"

Harry grimaced as he neared and pitied his friend. It didn't sound like a good conversation to be in.

"Lavender," Ron pleaded, exasperated. He sighed. "Lav-lav?" he added, blushing as he saw Harry approach. Harry rolled his eyes, thoroughly disgusted at the nickname.

Lavender seemed disgusted too, as she glared even harder at Ron. "Don't feed me that! We're not in sixth year anymore!" she yelled, stomping away, not even taking notice of Harry as she stormed past.

Ron ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Blimey Harry, I don't know how to deal with her sometimes. I mean, we're only _seventh _years now. And she still calls me—"

"Please don't. I feel a little vomit come up every time." Harry was almost amused at Ron's relationship. It was always like this between Ron and Lavender, they're moods always fluctuating, and their relationship always so volatile and turbulent. Harry jerked his thumb in the direction that Lavender had just headed off.

Ron shook his head. "Nah, I'm not going after her this time."

"Are you sure?"

Too busy thinking, Ron didn't answer. Harry continued. "So where was Hermione off to?"

"Dorm," Ron answered shortly, biting his lip and frowning.

"Why is she inside when the weather's so nice out today? It's going to snow soon, and then we'll be stuck indoors for the whole winter." Harry stopped talking, noticing that Ron was barely listening.

Ron suddenly turned to him. "Listen mate, I have something to do," he said hurriedly, "I'll see you later alright?"

Harry watched as he ran off in the direction Lavender had taken off to previously.

"How much do you bet my brother and Lavender are going to snog the moment he catches up?" a voice asked behind him.

Harry smiled, turning around to see his girlfriend. He wrapped his arm around her waist loosely. "I'd rather not think about it."

Ginny leaned in. "Well, we know where Ron is and what _he'll_ be doing. Where's Hermione?"

"_That _is the question I've been asking all week," Harry agreed, "I was just about to head up to her dorm to find her."

* * *

"Draco is sexy," Hermione whispered conspiringly to Mitchell.

"Everytime you say it, I feel myself wretch. And it's worse everytime _he _says it. I remember the days when you would lock him out. Pity you don't do that anymore. "

She shrugged, waiting expectantly to be let in.

He shook his head sadly. "I can't dear, he changed the password. He coerced me!"

"Again?!" Hermione groaned. "God!"

"That's close!" Mitchell, the man in the portrait, quickly exclaimed.

"Draco is god?"

"Draco Malfoy is god?"

"It relates to the previous password," he hinted.

"Draco Malfoy….is a sexy god?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me…Draco Malfoy is a sex god."

"Hermione?"

Hermione literally jumped, guilt and embarrassment flooded her as she was caught. She swore. The voice was recognizably Harry's.

She turned around slowly. "Oh, hi, Harry. Ginny," she said, a little breathlessly, wringing her hands behind her, praying desperately that they hadn't heard her.

"Why—" he began.

"—No reason!" she answered quickly. "It's stupid really, it's the password that—"

"—are you staying inside on such a beautiful day?" Harry finished.

Hermione stopped short. "What?"

"Why are you staying inside?" he asked again.

"Oh. OH!" She bit her lip, hating to lie. "Um, I've got to finish the Charms essay!"

"But—"

"—I'll see you guys later!" Hermione cut in, hurrying through the now open doorway, before collapsing as the door swung shut.

"…but you said you finished it yesterday…" Harry finished, after she had disappeared. He looked at Ginny, wondering if he was the only one to notice Hermione's strange behaviour. She shrugged in response.

"What do you think she's hiding?"

"Something, for sure. I just don't know what," Harry responded thoughtfully, as they walked down the staircase back towards the courtyards outside.

"A boy maybe?" Ginny asked, perceptively.

Harry thought for a moment, looking back. "Hermione? Nah!" He laughed.

* * *

"Merlin. You. Complete. Ass!" Hermione huffed, seeing Draco exit his room, rubbing a towel through his wet hair.

"So I take it you _don't _think I'm a sex god," he stated, plopping himself onto the couch.

Hermione took her coat off, revelling in the toasty warmth of the dorm, and stomped over towards him. "Harry nearly heard me!"

"Well, it is a legitimate claim you know. Just because you're oblivious, doesn't mean that other girls don't think—"

"Oh save it for someone who cares," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she sat down beside him.

He wrapped his arm around her, and she snuggled into the embrace. For a moment, she stayed silent, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Imagine the look on his face if he _had _heard though," she giggled.

"That's the spirit," he agreed, throwing the towel aside, as he placed his feet on the coffee table. He wiggled his toes, through his socks.

"Still, no more stupid passwords," Hermione insisted. "They're going to get suspicious."

"Pothead and Birdbrain? They wouldn't realize it until the truth hit them in the face."

"Birdbrain? That's new isn't it?"

"Yeah, spur of the moment type of thing. It's pretty good isn't it?" he replied offhandedly.

"A little common though," Hermione disagreed.

He took the hand that she had been playing with and put it over her face.

"Draco!" she complained, immediately turning away, towards him.

He laughed, leaning forwards to kiss her on the mouth. Draco brought his free hand to her chin, but Hermione pulled away before it could get any further, teasing him. She felt a smile grow on her face as she wondered when she had last been this happy.

She would never have guessed that Draco was thinking almost the exact same thing. And while Hermione was revelling in the feeling, Draco felt a little apprehension. He frowned, and instinctively retracted his hand, pretending to fiddle with the towel he had just dropped.

"It sucks that we can't go outside," Hermione murmured sadly, looking at the blue sky out the window. They had mutually ascertained that a secret, hidden, relationship was the best way. Hermione didn't even find it that hard. In the dorm, she could snuggle with her boyfriend, while outside, she was able to mercilessly tease him. And the bonus? Stolen kisses, and furtive glances, were much more exciting.

She wondered, fleetingly, if it were supposed to be that way. If it were supposed to be that easy for them to detach herself and himself from the relationship outside the dorm and the empty classrooms and hallways.

"Don't think so much," Draco said, knowing that she was busy analyzing something in her mind. "Or else I'm going to have to distract you," he warned.

She laughed. Draco loved her laugh, and a few days ago, he had decided that that was his favourite thing about her. She would wrinkle her eyes, and sometimes even let out a snort.

"How are you going to manage that hm?" she asked, although she was already distracted.

He leaned towards her, so that his mouth was a breath away from hers. Then, he smirked. "I have _no _clue," he whispered teasingly.

She kissed him quickly before ducking away. "Sure you don't," she said dully, as she walked towards the windows.

"I think you would look hot with your hair straightened," he blurted out.

She turned around and glared. "Oh shut up! I happen to like my hair curly."

"You wouldn't straighten it for me?" he pretended to pout.

"_Especially, _not for you," she bit out.

He laughed, raising his hands up. "Fine, fine." He walked over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We can go flying if you would like to go out," he suggested thoughtfully.

He felt her tense. "Not into flying?"

She shook her head fervently. "That was perhaps the only class in all my years at Hogwarts that I could honestly say I utterly despised. How you and Harry can flip and dive on that deathly flying thing—"

"—a broom?—"

"—to catch a little ball is beyond me."

"It's the thrill," he attempted to explain.

"The only thrill I can imagine is the thrill right before I hit the ground," she mumbled.

"So...you're saying that I'm better than you in quidditch."

"Yes."

Draco began to smile.

Hermione sniffled. "But don't let it get to you head buddy. You're better than me in quidditch, and _only _quidditch. Besides, it doesn't even count," she declared, shivering a little.

Draco frowned, not replying. He realized that Hermione's hands seemed a little cold. He suddenly let go of her.

"Where are you going?" she asked, as she watched him disappear into his room.

She laughed as she saw him carry his thick blanket in a heap in front of him. "What are you doing?" she teased, coughing a little.

He brought the blanket over to the couch, and gestured for her to sit. She complied, and then he proceeded to sit beside her, tossing the blanket over them.

"You," he said, "are going to be sick."

She shook her head, no. "I haven't gotten sick since I was in third year," she protested.

"I'm just saying," he said, "don't expect me to be the one taking care of you now that Pothead and…the other one…aren't living with you now." A hint of jealousy tinted his words, although neither noticed.

To be honest, Hermione admittedly never expected him to take care of her if she were sick. Rather than say that aloud though, she diverted the conversation. "The other one? That's worse than birdbrain."

"You come up with a better one then!"

She thought hard for a moment. "Weaselhead?" she said, finally, proud of herself.

Draco merely shook his head. "No wonder you weren't put in Slytherin."

Hermione's laugh turned into a cough.

"You're not _really _getting sick are you?"

"I don't get sick!" she insisted.

"Hermione," he said slowly, "I'm always right."

Hermione scoffed. "Yeah, and I was meant to be a Slytherin. You've just established that isn't going to happen." She paused for a moment. "But…" she said slowly, "_if _I'm going to get sick…"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hermione quickly leaned over and kissed him fully on the lips. "Now you'll be sick too."

**A/N: Did you actually think they would have sex? No. **

**Anyone guess what's going to happen next chapter? It's prettyyyy obvious.**

**I wanted to sort of show how they're relationship doesn't have a good basis you know, and I hope to show that in the next chapters. Like, they care about each other, but they don't really trust each other. And they're both so independent, and don't rely on the other one. **

**REVIEW!:D TELL ME if you're getting a little frustrated with anything...speed and pacing especially. I do realize that this story's development is quite long.  
**


	22. There's Nothing I Can't Do Without You

**There's Nothing I Can't Do Without You**

When Hermione woke up the next day, she ran through the events of the previous day. She was certain she had fallen asleep with Draco on the couch, so how had she ended up here?

Hermione, upon realizing that Draco had carried her to her room, blushed, feeling self conscious. Then, she had come to somewhat of a realization—an epiphany.

The pivotal point in her relationship with Draco—if one could call it that—was falling in love with that man. Under _no _circumstances could that happen, Hermione knew. She could only imagine how that could ruin her.

No, she ascertained, Draco wasn't a bad person, perfect for a fling—which was exactly what _this _was—but simply not the man to fall in love with. With him, she reminded herself, was all fun and games.

He had even told her that himself.

"You look absolutely…_terrible."_

Hermione glared at him, shutting the door to her room behind her. "What every girl wants to hear," she muttered sarcastically.

"No," Draco said, ignoring her sarcasm, "I mean you look like you're about to throw up." He frowned, remembering her coughs last night. "Come here," he indicated, motioning with his hand.

Grudgingly, she stalked her way over, taking the glass of milk he had poured for her along the way. She compliantly stood beside him as he placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

She looked sideways at him, thinking to herself. What constituted, then, to being in love, she wondered as she watched him. Because if she had to ensure not to fall in love with him, she had to set out the guidelines. Hermione _needed _rules. Strict rules.

She thought of all the people she had encountered who were in love. Severus Snape had loved Lily Potter, and had been willing to do anything for her, anything to protect her. That, she decided, was an action of a person in love. She thought about herself, then, in comparison.

She _would _protect Draco, but no more than she would Harry and Ron. She sighed, relieved.

James Potter also would have done anything for Lily. He could sacrifice, even his life, for her. Hermione looked at Draco, and seriously doubted he could do the same for her. She looked away, almost sadly. "To put the other above anything else in priority," she mumbled to herself, counting off the second item on her forming list.

She watched Draco frown, feeling his own forehead now. Most likely, he was comparing the temperatures.

Molly and Arthur, and her parents. Certainly, their love for their respective others wasn't quite as dramatic as her previous examples, but Hermione knew it was love nonetheless. They could always depend on the other to be there for them, to stand up for them, and to look out for them. Dependence, she decided, was the last item that constituted to love.

She had to depend on herself, Hermione realized.

"You're really hot."

"What?!" Hermione looked up, startled. She caught sight of his hand on her forehead again. "Oh, do I have a fever?"

Draco nodded gravely. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?"

Hermione was about to assent, when she realized something. She realized that he had used the word _need. _

She quickly took a large step backwards, while Draco looked at her quizzically.

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, I don't _need_ anything!"

She fell into a coughing fit, while Draco hurried over to brace her. When she finished, he repeated. "You really ought to get Madame Pomfrey to check you out."

She shook her head fervently, and shook his hand off. "I'm fine," she said. She walked over to grab her bag. "I'm going to potions now."

"Hermione!" Draco called, frustrated, as he gulped down the last of his own milk. "You're sick!"

She turned around. "Don't worry, Draco. I can take care of myself." And with that in mind, Hermione determinedly stepped out of the room.

Meanwhile, Draco cursed himself for not packing his bag the night before. He flew around the room, grabbing books here and there, and then dumping them unceremoniously into his bag. Hermione, he decided, was too stubborn for her own good.

Why wouldn't she just listen to him? Why wouldn't she just let him take her to the hospital wing?

He caught sight of one of her sweaters lying on the couch, and realized she hadn't been wearing a sweater this morning.

He hesitated, but picked it up. Potions _was _the coldest classroom in the entire school.

After collecting the rest of his things, he dashed after her. He only slowed down once he caught sight of her two best friends, feeling incredibly foolish for chasing after her. As he neared, he heard them insisting that she didn't look too well. At least they weren't as dumb as they looked, he thought to himself.

He pulled her sweater out of his bag, feeling even more foolish, having half a mind to put it away. He watched her shiver, and felt resigned. Foolish, he might have been, but she needed the sweater. He stared at it for a moment, wondering how he could give it to her without it looking suspicious. If he did it now, there would be less people to witness it.

"Granger," he said, forcing a tint of acidity into his tone.

All three of them looked back—Harry and Ron with suspicion and Hermione questioningly. He raised the hand holding her sweater.

"You," he thought quickly, coming up with a lie, "dropped this on your way out."

Hermione, who knew she had mindlessly forgotten a sweater, blushed, and walked towards him. "Thank you," she whispered._ Was this depending on him to look out for her?_

He nodded coolly, and brushed past her.

* * *

In only took about twenty minutes into potions class for everyone to realize that something was wrong with Hermione.

After a few snide comments at the beginning of the class, even Snape refrained from commenting on Hermione's head on the desk, and her lack of participation.

Draco watched her cough violently, her whole body shaking.

"What's wrong with Granger?"

Draco turned towards Blaise, who had asked the question.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Who knows? Who cares?" He forced himself to not let his eyes wander towards her.

"Are you worried?" Blaise asked perceptively.

Draco paused for a moment, considering. "No," he decided, just as the bell rung.

Everyone began filing out. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Hermione slowly packing up, while Harry and Ron dutifully waited beside her, helping her.

Draco loitered, until he saw Hermione attempt to carry her bag.

_Damnit, Potter. Help her, _he thought. Finally, he saw Harry shake his head, say something, and grab her bag amidst her protests.

As they left the classroom, Draco watched Hermione sway a bit, bracing herself with the stone wall. He had an urge to run up and simply carry her to the hospital wing, locking her to a bed.

He sighed, as he too, picked up his bag. "Bye professor," he said, waving at Snape.

Snape nodded. Then, after a moment, continued. "What was wrong with Miss Granger?"

"Sick, I suppose," Draco replied.

"Are you worried?"

Draco reconsidered. He quickly looked around the room, making sure no one was left. Finally, he gave his mentor a terse nod, and strode out of the room.

He was worried. Desperately so. But at least he had all of his classes with her today, so he could make sure she was okay, he supposed. He had a recurring feeling that he was caring too much—more than he did with other girls.

Still, he justified to himself, it was natural to be worried. Even Potter and Weasley were worried right? Even _Snape _was.

* * *

"Granger, what's the matter huh?"

Draco's head snapped to Marcus' direction. He was a Slytherin, in the same year as Draco, who could be just as mean as and even crueler than Draco himself.

"Why aren't you blurting out every single answer like you always do?"

Draco's eyes flickered to Hermione, as he unknowingly clenched his fists. He felt anger rise in him. He saw Harry and Ron straighten, glowering protectively beside his girlfriend.

Hermione quickly placed her hands over Ron and Harry's arms. She sensed that Draco would be angry, and sent a weak smile in his direction, relieved to see his posture relax slightly. She didn't need a fight, physical or verbal.

And she was immensely glad that before Marcus could continue, Professor Flitwick re-entered the classroom after a conversation with another teacher outside.

By the time Charms class concluded, Draco had had enough. He waited until she said goodbye to her friends, since she had Ancient Runes next while they were both done for the day.

As Harry and Ron disappeared from view, Draco stepped into view. Without speaking a word, he grabbed her bag and swung it over his shoulder.

"Wha—"

"You're coming with me," he all but growled. Draco grabbed her wrist, and gently tugged her forwards.

"Dr—" she looked around quickly. "Draco! We have to go to Runes!"

"_You _are going to _bed_," he announced, slowing down when he saw she was stumbling.

"Draco! Stop it!"

"Draco! I don't _need _you to take care of me! I don't need you to tell me what to do!"

He ignored her. "Geraniums." He barked the new password at the portrait, who swung aside without further comment seeing the look on Draco's face.

"Draco Malfoy!" she screamed, as the door swung shut.

He whirled on her now. "You were about to _faint _in Charms, Hermione. You're _not _taking care of yourself, so _someone _has to do it for you!"

"I'm fine!" she yelled, leaning against the back of the couch for support.

"Fine?!" He pulled her into her room, situating her in front of a mirror. "Does this look fine to you?" he bit out, making her look at herself.

It didn't, but Hermione wasn't about to say that.

She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very faint and exhausted.

Draco relented, seeing her struggle, counting to ten in his head to calm himself down. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Hermione, gently nudging her to lean against his frame.

"I know you don't need me to take care of you Hermione," he said softly. "But I'm worried about you. I get worried about you when you won't take care of yourself, and you won't let others help you."

Hermione opened her eyes, stunned at the confession. She bit her lip, feeling incredibly guilty. At the same time though, she felt elated that he cared so much.

"Will you please go to bed now?" she heard Draco ask.

She nodded feebly, and he sighed aloud. "Merlin." He walked away to push the comforter aside for her. Hermione crawled into bed, and allowed Draco to pull up the blanket for her.

Admittedly, she probably should have stayed in bed today. Draco sat down beside her. Slowly, almost tenderly, he brushed the loose strands of hair off her face, and tucked it gently behind her ear.

Her doe-like brown eyes watched him, full of wonder.

Hermione felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She watched as he slowly leaned down.

Quickly, she covered her mouth with her hand, just as he kissed it.

"I don't want to get you sick," she cried, muffled by her hand.

Draco chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned forwards more, and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Get some sleep," he whispered, amused, before pulling the blanket higher, and leaving the room.

As he shut the door behind him quietly, Hermione frowned, staring up at the ceiling.

She placed a hand over her stomach, as if to quell the feeling.

* * *

It was hours later before Hermione let out a soft yawn, groaning as she stretched her arms in her bed. Fluttering her eyelids, she forced herself to get out of bed. She threw off the comforter, shivering as the cool air hit her body.

She looked down, and realized that she was still in her school uniform. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, placing her socked feet onto the hardwood floor.

Standing up, she wriggled around, pulling her skirt back into position after riding up a little, and fixing her sweater so that it wasn't twisted around anymore.

Just as she noticed her haggard appearance in the mirror, with her wild puffy morning hair, and morning breath, Draco quietly opened the door.

"Oh, you're up?"

She stretched again, nodding. "What time is it?"

"About ten," he answered, as he set the tray he had been carrying down on her table. "Feeling better?"

She nodded, smiling. "Much better." She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, in hopes of bettering her appearance, but released the hair after failing to find and elastic on her hand.

She eventually noticed what he had been carrying, and eyed the tray of food greedily.

Draco laughed at her expression. "Hungry?" he teased, mirth in his eyes.

She pouted. "I can't help it! I skipped breakfast and dinner, and barely could hold anything down at lunch!"

He pulled out a chair for her as he nodded. "I suspected. Why else would I make this for you?"

She accepted the seat, and picked up the fork warily. "Should I be scared?"

Draco leaned against the table, watching her. "You should be if _I_ cooked it." He paused. "I made a kitchen run and picked up some of the leftovers from dinner. Go ahead, eat it. It's safe. I already had mine."

She forked a piece of broccoli, chewing thoughtfully. She swallowed before continuing. "You didn't go to dinner?"

He shook his head, no.

"Oh."

"Why did you stop?" Draco asked, as he saw her put down the fork.

Hermione shrugged. "I feel weird having you watch me while I eat," she admitted sheepishly.

Draco laughed out loud, shaking his head. He pushed off the table and headed for her bed, plopping himself on it. "Alright," he called, "my eyes are now closed."

"I didn't mean you had to close your eyes!" Hermione said, rolling her own eyes. Still, she picked up her fork again, upon a growl of her stomach.

From the bed, Draco picked up her stuffed animal and threw it in the air, before catching it, and repeating the process.

"Oh," he sat up, "I forgot. I ran by the hospital wing when I went to get the food. There's a potion for you on the tray."

"But I'm better now," Hermione whined, fully knowing the potion would taste horrible.

"Really, Hermione, are you eight? It's just a potion!" Draco snipped.

Hermione frowned. Maybe…just maybe…she could—

"And don't try tossing it down the drain when I'm not watching. Actually, drink it now. I don't want to take any chances."

"But Draco!" she protested, but it was no use. He was already hovering over her.

"Fine, _mother, _" she bit out, uncorking the vile. She grimaced as the liquid slid down her throat.

"That's a good girl," Draco said, mimicking a mother's voice to continue the joke. He walked back to the bed and threw himself down.

"That was disgusting."

"But you'll be all better by tomorrow," Draco reasoned, making the stuffed toy dance with his wand.

"I'm all better right now," Hermione protested, before a traitorous cough escaped her throat.

"Right," Draco muttered, directing the toy onto Hermione's table.

She laughed, snatching the toy up and hugging it. "What are you doing to poor lamby!"

"It's a lamb?" Draco asked, amazed. "I thought it was a cat."

"How does _this _look like a cat," she asked, turning around and raising the toy up.

He shrugged. "Looks like a cat to me."

Hermione threw the toy at him, which he caught easily before it hit him, and turned back to her food. "You're weird."

"I'm weird? You're the one that would rather go to class than sleep in when you have legitimate reason to," he returned, crossing his arms behind his head.

Suddenly, he saw Hermione looming over him. "Oh! I skipped Runes didn't I!" she fretted.

"_We _skipped Runes," he corrected, still simply lying there as Hermione began pacing.

"Oh no! I _knew _I shouldn't have listened to you. I can't skip class. I don't skip class. Now I'm going to have my first _truant _on my attendance." She whirled on Draco. "_Truant! _Truant, Draco! And merlin, I'll have to catch up! And—"

"First of all," Draco cut in, "you'll have an _absent, _because all the teachers, even Snape, would have to vouch for you that you were sick." He waited, while she took a seat beside him on the bed and nodded.

"And secondly," he continued, sneaking an arm around her waist, while his other arm pointed to a book and a small stack of papers on the floor beside her bed, "I got you the work already. Happy?"

Hermione nodded, smiling, as she realized how thoughtful Draco had been all day. She wrapped her fingers around the hand he had around her waist.

He really was all talk, she realized, recalling his words last day.

"_I'm just saying, don't expect me to be the one taking care of you now that Pothead and…the other one…aren't living with you now."_

She lay down beside him and turned to lie on her side, facing him. She was about to kiss him on the mouth before thinking better of it—what with being sick and probably bad breath and all. She kissed him on the cheek, before dropping her head down on the pillow beside him.

"What would—" she began, cutting herself short as the words caught in her throat.

"What was that?" he asked.

She shook her head, nothing.

Except it wasn't nothing. She had been going to ask, _What would I do without you?_ Only to have caught herself just in the nick of time. The implications of those words were just too much for her.

_Dependence, she decided, was the last item that constituted to love._

She tilted her head to look up at him, quickly looking away before he could make eye contact.

She could do anything, she told herself.

She could do anything, with or without him, she chanted.

There was nothing she couldn't do without him.

Except, as he pulled her closer towards him and in response, she snuggled into his body, marvelling at the perfect fit, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it.


	23. The Calm Before the Storm

**The Calm Before the Storm**

"You know," Draco drawled, yawning lazily as he lifted his head from the arm of the couch, "all work and no play makes for a very dull Hermione and a very bored Draco." He dropped his had back on the couch and threw his arms over his head. "Can we please _do_ something?"

"You could make yourself useful and pass me another bottle of ink," she returned evenly, laying her palm open towards him without looking up from her work.

"If I didn't pass it to you, would you stop working?"

"If I ignored you, would you stop talking?"

Draco pondered that thought for a moment. "Well…"

"No," Hermione replied for him. "You wouldn't."

Shrugging, Draco lifted his left arm above his hand and read the time on his watch. "_Herrmmy-own-ninnnyyyy, _it's three o' clock on a bloody Sunday afternoon. Christmas is in two weeks. Who _cares _about homework."

"Well, if you hadn't been bothering me for the past _two hours, _I would have been done already!" she responded, a hint of frustration beneath her voice. "Draco, please, please, please, just shut up for a bit and then we can do something."

"Okay."

Hermione sighed, relieved, and quietly read her sentence aloud, making a few changes here and there.

"Now?"

She groaned. "Even Ron is quieter that this," she muttered under her breath, ignoring Draco.

"Now?"

"Now!"

Hermione growled.

Draco, forming an idea in his mind, slipped slowly off the couch and discreetly onto the floor beside her. He scrambled on his knees so that he was directly behind her, and lowered his head so that his mouth was just beside her ear right ear.

"Now?" he whispered, watching the barely visible hair covering the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders rise up—revelling in his power as he watched her shiver. He winced when he heard the tip of her quill snap, and frowned when he peered over her shoulder and saw the forming blob of ink marring her page.

He scrambled up to his feet and backed up, falling onto the couch in the process. "Um…Hermione. See, the thing is, that wasn't my fault," he squeaked, looking frantically left and right for a means to escape from her wrath. He'd seen her perform some rather nasty hexes on his fellow Slytherins, and even Weasley. He quickly snatched a pillow from beside him and held it as a shield in front of him when he saw her looming over him. She had her hand held behind her—rather precariously, in Draco's opinion.

He squeezed his eyes shut when he saw Hermione's hand twitch, and held the pillow over his face.

He knew he had it coming when he felt her push the pillow away, despite his attempt to hold it in place.

Suddenly, he felt her soft hand on his cheek, and before he could even open his eyes in bewilderment, he felt her smiling lips on his own.

He felt a surge of heat flush up and then down his body, settling rather uncomfortably in the middle of his body, when she dragged her tongue along his bottom lip.

In one smooth movement, which wasn't a small feat, he threw the pillow aside, placed his two hands on either side of her hips, and pulled her closer to him.

Hermione laughed, whilst still kissing him, which he though was uncannily sexy, and positioned her legs on either side of his body.

"Draco," she murmured, after a long thorough snog.

Despite her sounding a little breathless, he loved the way his name rolled off the tip of her tongue. _Draco. _It was so…

"Draco," she repeated.

And there it was again, he thought, in something of a daze. He responded with a grunt.

She pressed her forehead to his. "Later."

One word, so full of promise that he couldn't contain the excitement rising within him—both in the sense of the word, and physically.

The sneaky little wench.

As she swung her left leg back over his body so she should get off of the couch, he grabbed her knee and pulled her back down.

"What—"

"Now." He silenced her with his lips and she simply wasn't able to protest.

* * *

Draco was in his room, lying on his bed with his eyes closed. He had woken up nearly fifteen minutes ago, and was hoping he could manage to fall back asleep. He loved December. Not for Christmas, no. He really could care less for a fat old man sliding down a chimney. And presents? It wasn't as if he needed anything. No, he loved it simply because all of the teachers, with the exception of Snape, _loved _Christmas. For him, that meant, little homework, a lot of sleep, and more time to spend with Herm—doing other things, he mentally corrected himself.

Suddenly, he heard a scream coming from outside of his door. It was distinctly hers. He literally popped up, and scrambled out of bed, hearing another high pitched screech.

"Hermione?!" he called out, tumbling out of the room in a hurry, with a white cotton t shirt and a pair of boxers covering his body. He shivered. "Hermione!" he called again, hearing no response, worry increasing in his voice.

"Draco, Draco!!" she yelled out, excitement flushing her face as she bounded towards him. "Look!" Without waiting for consent, she took hold of his hand, intertwined her fingers with his, and pulled him forcefully towards the source of the cold—the windows.

He braced himself with his free hand as he was nearly thrown into the frosted glass. "What?!" he snapped, half annoyed now.

She beamed at him, and pointed enthusiastically to the blanket of white covering the Hogwart grounds.

He frowned, feeling his annoyance melt away, replaced by curiosity. He leaned into the glass and searched outside for something unusual, out of the ordinary.

"The _snow _you _idiot_!" she sighed, after a moment. "Snow!"

He pulled back immediately, staring at her with confusion etched on his face. "So? We always get snow here. It's not like this is the first time you've seen snow." He shivered again, and began walking away from her.

"But _Draco,_" she whined. "It's the _first _snow!"

"And tomorrow will be the second," he replied tonelessly, without looking back. "Who cares?"

Hermione caught up with him, tugging on his shirt to make him stop. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "But it's the _first _snow." She blinked, and pouted.

He tried not to look at her, tried not to catch sight of her pleading eyes, but failed miserably. He gently ran his thumb over her pouting lips, causing her to giggle and lose her composed face. He felt a faint smile tugging on his lips. She just looked so damn _joyful. _"What do you want?" he sighed, giving in.

Her toothy grin returned as she began to ramble. "Well, see it's tradition. Every year, me, Harry and Ron—no sorry, Harry, Ron, and I—don't roll your eyes at me Draco Malfoy!"

"Fine, fine, go on."

"Harry, Ron, and I make it a point to go out at play in the first snowfall of the season."

"How old are you guys? Two?"

"Just because we know what_ fun _is."

"Yeah, for kindergarteners."

"_Draco, please!"_

He sighed. "Well then, go, go roll around in the snow with Potter and Weasel."

It was then that he caught sight of the mischievous glint in her eyes. He stared at her suspiciously. "You—you aren't expecting _me—" _At her fervent nodding, he quickly shook his head. "There is no way in hell I'm going to jump around in snow like a 2 year old with you. No Granger. No!"

"Why not!"

"Because that's _stupid?"_

"It is not! It's fun!"

He decided to change tactics. "Someone might see."

"We'll go near the forbidden forest, behind the hill. Nobody will see from the castle, and we'll hear people approaching."

He frowned.

"Let's go then!" she exclaimed, "I'll just brush my teeth, change, grab a scarf and mitts, and we can—"

"Nope."

"Draco! Don't be obstinate."

"I'm not doing it Hermione!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes. You. Are," she declared.

Twenty minutes later, he was fully wrapped up, stumbling through the portrait hole unwillingly behind an eager Hermione.

* * *

"Go to sleep Hermione." He felt like a broken record, repeating the same line over and over again.

He wondered if she felt like one too, continuously replying with a simply "No."

He turned around, and watched her laying sideways on the couch, eyelids drooping heavily. After quite a bit longer than usual, she noticed his watching her and smiled lightly at him, motioning with her hands for him to continuing working.

"You're tired," he insisted, stopping his furious scribbling and dropping his quill down. He turned fully to face her.

"I'm not!" she insisted stubbornly, even as her eyelids fell once again. She had trouble opening them back up. "It's partially my fault anyways."

"How's that?"

"I really shouldn't have made you play all day in the snow with me last week."

"I wouldn't have worked on it then anyways."

She laughed softly. Beautifully. "True," she admitted.

He shook his head, knowing that she wouldn't budge on her decision. It touched him a little that she was willing to stay up with him while he finished his essay. The one that she had been working on over two weeks ago when he had distracted her. He smirked thinking about it. His smirk fell away when he remembered the essay was due tomorrow morning. Only Snape would kill the Christmas spirit by making an assignment due a week before Christmas break.

_Christmas break. _He smiled at that thought, for once in his seven years at Hogwarts. Not only was he staying at Hogwarts this year. So was Hermione. And the many people going back to their families for two weeks would mean plenty of time to spend with her, and a lot less time hiding. The only down side was Potter and Weasley.

He shook his head, hearing a soft snore behind him. He really needed to finish the damn essay, if not for him than for her.

* * *

They had created somewhat of a secret signal. Or Draco had created somewhat of a secret signal, and had desperately tried to convince Hermione to use it, to no avail.

It was only when he slapped his hand rather conspicuously, and loudly, in the middle of potions class one day—with everybody turning to stare at him—that he realized perhaps the secret signal was not so secret after all. It would probably need to be improved with a little bit of discretion.

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard Snape bellow. "Is there something you would like to announce to the class?"

He snarled in the general direction of the snickering Gryffindors.

"I was just going to tell Grang—" Oddly, he felt his throat constrict. For a moment, he frowned, and nudged Crabbe sitting beside him.

Utterly confused, Crabbe began. "Granger…" but was unable to continue.

The snickering grew, and Hermione hid a smile.

"He was just saying," Blaise spoke up, "that Granger should act more like a girl once in a while. You know…Pansy could really teach you some charms to help you out..on…" He looked her over, up and down, purposefully. "well…everything," he continued, with a smirk.

Hermione's voice rang clear amidst the commotion in the room. "A girl could hardly hit as well, right Malfoy?" At which, Harry and Ron burst out laughing, recalling the incident in third year.

Draco scowled, but refrained from commenting as Snape cleared his throat, and with his back turned to the class, dismissed his class with a half hearted wave of his hand. Immediately, a uniform scraping of chairs could be heard, as all the students gathered their items, rejoicing in their early dismissal.

"I'm going to drop off a book at the library," he heard her tell Harry and Ron from behind him.

Hermione trailed after him, with a few clusters of people between them. After turning a few corners, he slipped discreetly into an empty classroom.

Hermione, a few seconds behind, looked behind her, ensuring that Harry and Ron weren't tailing her. Not that they would be, since it was lunch time and all. They would probably be feasting by now. She slipped into the room, closing the door tightly behind her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

She would have shrieked when she felt a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to the corner beside the door, if she hadn't been so accustomed to it.

"You _have _to stop doing that." She fumbled around in her back before pulling out her wand. "Lumos."

She saw the smirk playing at his lips as the light flickered around his facial features. "I don't see a problem with it."

She rolled her eyes, preparing to wave her light around to see if the room was actually empty.

"I already checked."

She checked anyways, before turning back towards him. "What if I hit you?"

"Now, why would you hit me?" He asked, almost patronizingly.

"Because what if I didn't know it was you?"

"It would hurt," he conceded. "As I recall, you're as good with your hands as you are with wands."

She ignored the blatant innuendo. "I have to go Draco, we're visiting Hagrid later, before DADA."

He pouted, easing his grip on her, allowing her to move away slightly if she wanted to. She didn't move. "What's a stolen kiss in an empty classroom if we haven't even kissed?!"

She obligingly gave him a quick kiss. "Happy?"

"Honestly? Not really." He shrugged. "Why do you three even like that big oaf?"

"DRACO!"

"Fine. That big _guy._ You can't defend the big part."

"Well, that brings to question why I even like you," she blurted out.

Both of them froze. Hermione released the light coming from her wand, hoping the darkness would hide her overwhelming embarrassment.

Draco was suddenly at a loss for words, his eyes widening, his jaw slackened.

"Um…." Hermione mumbled quietly, first to recover, "right well, Harry and Ron are going to be looking for me. I better go."

It came as some form of relief for her that he hadn't loosened his grip on her until she made a move to leave.

Still, as she shut the door behind her as she left the dark room, and the boy inside of it, she forced herself not to think about the fact that he never uttered a single word as she left.

And as she took her time walking towards the great hall, hoping that he would change his mind, she was fairly certain he wasn't going to.

* * *

**A/N: and you're totally like. Wow. She took so long. And then like…what was the point of this chapter?**

**Well, maybe that's what you're asking. Well, as the title suggests, hint hint, next chapter will be fairly eventful. A little bit of Drama coming up. And I promise you, the next chapter will pick the story right back up in speed, and the chapter after that will be EPIC. I've got it planned out right in front of me:)**

**PLEASE REVIEW. I'm leaving for vacation on the 25****th****, and exams start on the 18****th****. I'm not saying if you don't review, I won't update, because I will, but reviews make me more motivated to write. And I want to get the next two chapters done and up before I leave! PLEASE:D **


	24. the Last Thing I Want to See

**READ! **A/N: I TRIED finishing the next chapter, but it's not ready yet, and I haven't finished packing yet! (leaving tom morn.) Still, I wanted to let you all know I'll be back on June 14, and I'll finish it asap once i get back from GREEEECEE:) Thanks so much for sticking with it! Here's a little foreshadowing. Remember when I said next chapter would be epic? Here's why. Hermione is about to come to some realizations. Next chappie promises a lot of Hermione, and not so much Draco.

Talk to you soon!

* * *

**The Last Thing I Want to See**

"_It's not always going to be like this Draco. One day, you'll like someone. You'll truly like someone. And I hope when that day comes, she—whoever she is—teaches you a lesson about yourself."_

He remembered those words as his previous girlfriend's parting 'gift' for him. And as he recalled those words, it was then that he realized. He realized that he truly _did _care about Hermione.

And that scared the fucking shit out of him.

* * *

Hermione looked up as she packed her bags after a particularly long class of Ancient Runes to see a flash of blonde hair as Draco whisked through the door. With an exaggerated breath as she calmed her restless nerves, she took off after him.

"Sorry," she murmured continuously, as she tried to manoeuvre through the bustle of students. "Sorry."

She had to catch up with him before he made it back to their dorm, or else he'd simply hole himself in his room until dinner.

Thanks to a suspicious spill in the third floor hallway, where Filch was angrily yelling at students to turn around and head another direction, Hermione managed to catch up to Draco.

"You know," she began, slightly breathless, as she placed a hand on his arm, "you don't have to…say anything back." She didn't even care that she was touching him in the middle of a busy hallway. "Just stop avoiding me." She paused, before adding quietly. "Please."

Draco stared at the wall behind her, trying to ignore the heated sensation caused by her touch. "I'm not," he lied.

He cautiously looked down at her to catch her rolling her eyes. He was painfully aware that her hand was still on his arm. "Oh come _on_ Draco, don't feed me that."

He didn't think she'd believe him anyways. "I'm not avoiding you," he repeated.

"Alright," she returned, "then why didn't you wait for me after runes?"

"I needed to go to the washroom," he improvised.

"We passed the washroom two halls back," she pointed out correctly.

He didn't know how else to respond, so he simply chose to remain silent.

"And," she continued on relentlessly, now on a roll, "you've barely _touched _me since I said…it."

"What do you mean?" he asked, half stalling. He knew exactly what she meant. But he simply couldn't get what she said out of his head. _"Well, that brings to question why I even like you," _It haunted him. And not because she said she was question why she liked him. He was afraid because she said that _she liked him._

"When was the last time you kissed me Draco?" She hissed. "It's been two days."

Had it really been two days already?

"Yes, Draco, two days. I know what you're thinking," Hermione sighed. "Please Draco, I'm okay with pretending I never said it—forgetting it ever happened," she pleaded desperately, "can things just return to how they used to be?"

But before Draco could even consider this, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy turned around the corner. Instinctively, he shook her hand off.

As they approached, he raised his voice. "Get out of my way, Granger!" he yelled, his voice cold and hard. He ignored the flash of hurt in her eyes, hating himself for catching sight of it. Hating himself for caring. Because, he reminded himself, he should not _care. _Especially not for Granger.

"What did _she _want?" Pansy sneered, as she stopped beside Draco, loud enough for Hermione to hear as she retreated.

He could have said nothing. He could have made an excuse about Head's stuff. He could have ignored her question. But instead, he drawled, "Better question, why would I _care_?"

And he swore that he saw Hermione's shoulders sink lower, as her pace sped up.

He began walking in the other direction with the group of Slytherins, unconsciously placing his hand over the spot where Hermione's had been.

"You honestly spend too much time with her," Pansy whined, slipping her arm through Draco's.

He pulled his hand out and stuck it in his pocket. "I do not," he protested nervously.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Say, where have you been the last few weekends? We couldn't find you anywhere."

"Just like how Potter and Weasel couldn't find Granger !" Crabbe exclaimed.

Pansy turned towards him expectantly. "Do _not _bullshit me. You could have been doing Head stuff all this time."

Draco felt himself heat up. He felt his heartrate speed up, but forced himself not the fidget. He remained outwardly passive. Even managing to school his features into a look of disgust. "I wouldn't spend extra time with her unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, maybe not. Let's be real."

It occurred to him that he was immensely relieved that Hermione wasn't there to hear him.

Pansy seemed relatively satisfied with his response. Blaise, however, wasn't buying it.

"You haven't been dating recently," he pressed on.

Draco glared at the other boy. "I've dated all the girls worth my time," he snapped.

Still, Blaise took no heed. "True," he pretended to admit. "The girls left are pretty much bloody hags and prudes like Granger."

Draco felt an overwhelming urge to defend her, as his fists clenched in anger. He forced himself to relax.

"You should see her in the morning."

"Looks that bad?"

No.

But instead, he said, "Worse. It fucking gives me nightmares."

Blaise, finally satisfied, chuckled. "Can't be _that _bad."

And Draco could have fully left it at that. Except he didn't. "It _is._" He pretended to shudder, easily returning to his old habits of mocking her. He ignored the guilty feeling inside of him as the rest of the group chuckled.

Finally, they passed by his dorm. "Hey guys, I'm going to head in. Dinner?"

As they nodded and moved on, Draco slipped into the common room, praying that Hermione wasn't waiting for him.

"Draco."

He cursed, feelings his hopes plunge. "What?!" he snapped.

Hermione ignored his anger. She stood up and walked slowly towards him. "Draco, I know what I said scared you."

He took a step away from her, hating her at that moment. Hating how she knew him so well. Hating how _right _she was, how right she always was.

He ran a hand through his hair. Damnit.

"_Well, that brings to question why I even like you," _He just never expected her to say it first. He never expected her to say it. Period.

It was supposed to be just something fun. Stolen kisses. Wandering hands. Flirty moments. It wasn't supposed to mean anything.

She was never supposed to like him. Just as he—he wasn't supposed to care about her so much.

And part of him hated himself. He hated himself because he _knew _this was going to happen. He knew that Granger was a romantic at heart, no matter how she acted. He knew that he shouldn't have let this relationship start. Because one minute they were fooling around. The next, she admits she likes him. And then it would become more.

He didn't want more. Because more would mean depending on someone else. More would mean always thinking about someone else. More was….well, more.

The worst part was that when she had said that she liked him, he had felt _happy _damnit. Even if it was just for a moment. In the past, whenever a girl said that to him, it would mean their imminent break up. Because Draco didn't want to get attached. He didn't want to care. Except…he was afraid he already got attached. He was afraid—no, terrified—that he already cared. About Hermione Granger.

And that? That was unforgivable. That was unthinkable. He could _not _care. He couldn't let these feelings grow. Not anymore.

Hermione waited patiently for him to respond.

"Maybe you're wrong," she heard him say, his voice low.

"Wrong?" she replied.

"Maybe I'm not scared," he said, convincing himself. "Maybe I just _don't care."_

"Draco, no one's around. You don't have to act," she said, fearfully. She wanted to believe that he said that because he thought the others were watching. Because he had to maintain their 'hatred' towards each other. "Draco?" She tried to place her hands on his chest, and place a kiss on his lips.

He pushed her away. "I _know _that."

And this time. This time he saw the tears in her eyes before she walked away. A shot of pain and regret ran through him

Still, he couldn't let it happen. He couldn't like Hermione. He didn't. And he wouldn't.

* * *

Hermione always hated the girls who cried in movies. The girl who would sob when the slightest mishap would occur. She always strived _not _to be _that girl. _To be the direct opposite. But nothing could stop the onslaught of tears from coming now. The only thing she _could _do, was make it to her room before the dams in her eyes broke. Before Draco saw her cry.

So she did the only thing she could. She ran.

She truly hadn't meant to blurt it out. She didn't mean to. Because she knew he could never say the same to her. She only hoped that he could forget her mistake, because she wasn't ready for it to end. Not yet. She hadn't had enough yet.

She would admit that she felt jealous. She felt jealous whenever she saw Harry and Ginny together, or Ron and Lavender. Because they had what she could never have with Draco.

She wanted more. She wanted a relationship.

She didn't know when she started trusting him. She didn't know when she began depending on him. All she knew was that she did. She did trust him. She did depend on him. And she wanted, desperately, him to depend on her too.

She took deep breaths, and stumbled her way to a tissue box to blow her nose.

Slowly, she began to calm down, until the last sniffles died down and the remaining tears were dabbed away.

He didn't mean it, she told herself firmly. Because Draco was Draco. Because this was all knew to him, she convinced herself.

She found her way to the sink, where she turned on the faucet. She cupped her hands under the stream of cold water and splashed it over her face multiple times. Grabbing a towel off the rack, she dabbed the water off, and turned off the faucet, checking to make sure all signs of her break down were gone.

Satisfied, she left the comfort of her room to bravely face everyone—including Draco—at dinner.

But as she passed by Draco's open doorway, she couldn't help but catch sight of a little jewellery box on his bed. Part of her knew that she was invading the privacy of his bedroom. She knew that she would hate it if he entered _her _bedroom without her permission. But the bigger part of her _needed _to know what was inside. She needed to know that it wasn't what she thought it was—his generic goodbye gift.

So she crept into his room, glancing behind her cautiously multiple times. As she made it to the bed, she picked up the little box and fingered it in her shaking hands, contemplating.

Slowly, she cracked it open.

It was a necklace.

**A/N: If any of you guys don't get the beginning reference quotation, its from the beginning of chapter 5.**

**And in chapter 2, you'll remember that he gives necklaces as break up gifts. **

**Yup. **

**Struggle with emotions!**

**Review  
**


	25. Oh Draco

**Oh Draco  
**

Hermione felt Ginny's nudge, and looked questioningly at her friend. In response, Ginny discreetly tilted her head to her right, towards Ernie Macmillan, who was passing by.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had Draco, she thought to herself. Not that Ginny knew, of course. Hermione bit her lip, a frown forming. Well, she _sort of _had Draco. Really, to be honest, she didn't know what was going on with him. It had been a week since she had found the necklace—and with each passing day, her anxiety increased. Every time she saw him, which wasn't very often since he seemed determined to be distant from her, she was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified. Of losing him.

"Hermione?"

She shook her head slightly. "Not interested Ginny," she sang with fake cheeriness, as she linked arms with the girl, ducking through the portrait to the common room. "Ernie Macmillan is just a friend, and fellow prefect."

"I don't believe you," Ginny insisted, flopping herself onto an empty couch.

Hermione looked around, wondering when was the last time she had been here. It was such a stark contrast to the heads' common room. Here it was bustling with people of all ages, spending time with their friends, doing homework, telling stories… There, it was silent. Lonely.

It hadn't been that way since the beginning of the year. It hadn't been lonely since she and Draco began talking.

Instinctively, Hermione brought her hand up to her neck, as if to reassure herself that no, he hadn't given her the necklace yet. That no, she hadn't lost him yet.

"You've been so happy recently," Ginny explained. "I've seen girls happy like that all the time Hermione, and there's only one reason for it." She leaned in conspiratorially, whispering, "A boy."

Hermione felt herself heat up, her heart rate speeding up. "Don't be silly."

Ginny leaned back, and raised her eyebrow knowingly.

"Ginny, please. There is no boy."

Ginny shook her head, as if amused by Hermione's denial. "Who've you been out on dates with Hermione?"

Hearing her words, Hermione felt a strong pang in her chest. "No one," she said, the cheer lost in her voice. And that was the truth. With Draco, it always had to be a secret. A secret. Even now.

And suddenly, it was just too much. She looked at Ginny, waiting patiently for an answer. She wasn't like Draco. She couldn't keep it all inside. She didn't like keeping secrets. In fact, she hated it. She hated lying to her friends. To Harry. To Ron. To Ginny.

"You can tell me you know," Ginny encouraged.

It felt like the words were just pushing to come out. Like, finally, she couldn't keep them in anymore.

She heard the words before she realized she was saying them.

"Maybe," Hermione stuttered, "Maybe there is a boy." She paused. "Or there was a boy. Or there is a boy." She closed her eyes, running a hand through her thick hair. "I don't even know."

Suddenly concerned at her friend's response, Ginny leaned forwards. "What? Hermione?"

Hermione stared at her for a moment. She could still back out, she told herself. But, Hermione found that she didn't want to back out. She wanted, no needed, to tell somebody.

"It's not what you think. It's probably the last thing you'd think," Hermione said, softly. "You have to promise not to tell anybody. Not even Harry. Especially not Harry."

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, worry lacing her voice.

Hermione ignored her, standing up, offering her hand to her friend. "Can we go to your room?"

Ginny nodded, and although she was confused, she allowed herself to get pulled up. "Sure."

* * *

"Draco?! As in Draco Malfoy?!!" Ginny shrieked, jumping to a stand.

Hermione, sitting cross legged on her bed, shrugged, blushing beet red. "Shush!" she hissed, watching as Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth. "Draco _is_ a fairly unique name," she then continued, attempting to joke. Anything to calm Ginny down.

"Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes—"

" Slytherin? Seventh year?"

She nodded. "Ye—"

Ginny touched the top of her head. "Pale blonde hair." She raised her arm. "About that tall? Mean and ugly face?"

"Well—"

"The guy who finds his joy in making the Gryffindors' lives difficult?"

"He doesn't—"

" Pretty much your _enemy?_"

"That's the one."

"But it's _Malfoy! _Malfoy!_"_

"Look, I know alright?!" Hermione began, temper rising. "I know who it is! Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Ginny sighed, taking a few deep breaths. Finally, she sat down on the chair opposite Hermione. "Okay," she said slowly, "I just…it's just so hard to believe you know? I really don't mean to overreact…I'm sure this is hard enough." Ginny bit her lip, waiting to see Hermione's response. She let out a tense breath when Hermione nodded.

"It's fine. I know it's a little hard to handle," Hermione admitted, "Took me a while too."

Ginny smiled. "So, you like the Malfoy type huh?"

"I suppose so," Hermione smiled.

Ginny didn't speak for a moment.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked, after a while.

"Really, I was just imagining the fit Harry and Ron are going to have when they find out. Merlin, can you imagine it?"

Hermione pictured it in her head, and laughed aloud. "Ron would go red."

"And start sputtering," Ginny agreed.

"And Harry? What would he do?"

"Probably give Draco a run for his money no?"

Hermione smiled, nodding.

Finally, Ginny gather up the courage to ask. "Hermione, when did this happen? No, better yet, _how _did this happen?"

Hermione pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I don't know."

Ginny looked at her disbelievingly.

"I really don't know!" Hermione protested. "It just did. I guess it started a few months ago. There wasn't really a single day where we were like, _oh, let's snog, _you know."

"Ew, I didn't need a picture."

Hermione shrugged.

"Was it hard keeping it in?"

"Yeah, but I sort of had to you know? I don't think it'd go well with people. Which is why—"

"I have to keep this a secret? Don't worry."

"Thank you."

"But seriously, of all guys Hermione? You're smarter than this."

Hermione wanted to disagree. She wanted to say something to defend herself, but how could she, when Ginny was only voicing her own recurring thoughts.

"Why—why would you say that?" Hermione managed to ask.

Ginny looked Hermione in the eye. "He's going to hurt you."

"Hermione, you're the one who always pointed out the girls he hurt, the girls he left behind. How did you let yourself—"

"--become one of them?" Hermione finished. "I don't know. It just happened."

"Well," Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "unhappen it!"

"That's not even a word!"

"That's so not the point! Hermione!"

"What is the point?"

"The point is," Ginny began, softening her voice, "I don't want you to get hurt Hermione."

"He's different than we thought Ginny. He can be nice. He gets me. It's…been," she paused, "good. Great even."

"I can believe he gets you Hermione. But Draco Malfoy. Nice? I'm sorry. I just don't believe that."

Hermione shifted positions and flopped on her stomach, propping her head in her hands. "Why can't you just be supportive Gin?"

"I can't be supportive because I'm worried about you! He's going to hurt you. I _know _it. So please, Hermione, please break it off."

"Gin…" Hermione began trailing off.

"What?"

It took Ginny a moment before she understood what Hermione meant.

Hermione dropped her head onto the bed and flipped around, facing the ceiling. She couldn't break it off. She just couldn't.

Silence engulfed them, as Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Ginny took a moment to look at her friend, to really _see_ her friend. Finally, Ginny crawled onto the bed, and lay down beside her.

"You love him, don't you?" Ginny whispered, without looking at her.

Hermione, stunned, simply couldn't find an answer.

* * *

Hermione was now on her own bed, sitting crossed legged with her potions textbook in her lap. Instead of studying though, which was what she had planned to do, she was staring off into a corner, deliberating.

Suddenly, she snapped her book shut and threw it down beside her, sliding off the bed.

She needed to clear her mind and think, she decided, as she slid her pajama pants off and replaced them with the pair of jeans draped over her chair. After throwing on a sweater over her thin camisole, she headed out the door, closing it quietly behind her, glancing cursorily at Draco's door.

She checked the clock as she walked past, biting her lip as she read the time. It was way past curfew, and she felt guilty breaking the rules. Rules that she, as head girl, was supposed to enforce.

Still, desperate times called for desperate measures. And besides, with friends like Harry and Ron, it wasn't as if this was her first time breaking the rules.

Ducking out of the warm common room, she shivered. The halls were dark, and unfamiliar. Yet, she felt oddly comforted by this. More comfortable than she felt in her own room at least.

She padded her way down the path she always took to her favourite place in the entire school, to her one place of solace. Hopefully, Filch wasn't patrolling this hall at that moment.

Unconsciously, Hermione reached for her neck, before realizing what she was doing and pulling her hand away.

As she performed a simple unlocking charm, allowing herself in, she felt a rush of relief that she had made it. Stepping from the stone floors of the hallways, onto the carpeted floors, she felt a sense of belonging and peace. Hermione started towards her couch, dubbed hers by most of the school as she could almost always be found sitting upon it with a book in hand. Smiling, she ran her fingers along the spine of books.

It was too dark to see the title of the books, so Hermione headed straight for her chair, by the windows. The moonlight lit her face, as she lay down horizontally on the couch, letting the quiet wash over her.

She remembered when she had first decided to interact with Draco. Typically of her, she had made a list of pros and cons.

_Malfoy wasn't evil_

_Malfoy was a fairly good converser_

_It was fun riling him up, in the not mean and insulting way_

_He could really help her with her grades, much more helpful than both Harry and Ron_

_She negated the fact that she fairly liked him as well. Either way, it was enough. It was decided. It was time to put away old feelings._

And yet, as she recalled the list now, she realized how foolish it was. Every single point was just an excuse.

She filtered through her memories, coming up with another one, where she had tried to convince herself that she was strong enough to be able to guard her own heart.

_But now that they were friends, things became different. However, she was no fool. Only a fool would fall for him. No, she may like him, may sometimes feel things she really shouldn't because of him, but they were only because of hormones. That and maybe because he was forbidden to her. He was merely temptation._

_Hermione was careful about her heart, guarded about her feelings._

_But the truth of the matter was, no matter how much she may like him, she would never let herself fall for him. Because that would be foolish. And Hermione was no fool._

Silly her. Really.

She sat up suddenly, the truth dawning on her. She _had_ fallen for him. Merlin's beard. Ginny was right. She had fallen for him. Fallen in love with him.

She let her head fall against the backrest of the couch.

Damn, what had she gotten herself into? And more importantly, what was she going to do with herself?

She tucked her knees in, resting her chin on them. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to no one in particular.

It was maybe an hour later before Hermione heard shuffling in the back of the library, followed by the soft but tell tale 'meow'. Slowly, she pulled herself up, and tip toed her way out of the library.

However, as she walked back into her room, she wished she hadn't come back. Because there, sitting on her bed, was a neatly wrapped box.

She stared at it for one long moment, as if waiting for it to disappear. But it remained. Cautiously, she picked it up, staring at it in her hand for one long moment, before throwing it against the nearest wall.

In a rage, she threw the covers off her bed and jumped in, pulling up the covers.

Still, like a magnet drawn to metal, her eyes found the box, lying undamaged on the floor. And as much as she tried to stop it, she felt a tear slip out the corner of her eyes, dampening the pillowcase bellow.

"Oh Draco."


	26. Only Make Me Stronger

**It goes without saying that it's been a while. I hope my writing is still okay, as it feels kind of rusty. Let me know how you feel about this chapter.**

* * *

**And That That Don't Kill Me Will Only Make Me Stronger**

Hermione woke up the next morning, and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. There was no flooding memories of the past few days as her mine became alert, because she simply hadn't been able to _stop _thinking of the past few days in the first place. She sighed. She didn't even get respite in her dreams, which had been filled with Draco.

He was kissing her.

He was pushing her away.

He was insulting her, to the point where she would break down and collapse.

He was confiding in her, smiling at her, whispering conspiringly in her ear.

She shivered and willed it to be the weekend. But all the magical power in the world couldn't make that happen. She knew that.

Rolling to her side, she checked the clock, and decided that she had a few minutes to spare. She reached over to the bedside table to grab the gift wrapped box, still unopened.

"Draco," she murmured sadly, fingering the box. This time though, she resisted the temptation to unravel it.

In part, it was because she had learned that she wasn't as strong as she originally though. Oh, it had nothing to do with physical strength. It was that she had misjudged herself; she thought she would have enough inner strength and willpower to keep her distance from Draco. Maybe, she toyed with the idea, she never gave those previous girls a chance.

Maybe, she judged them too severely. He was like the flame, and the moths certainly weren't to blame. Early on in their relationship, Draco had called her out on this.

She smiled bitterly. There was the saying, she recalled, 'know thy enemy'.

Well, he certainly knew her – she had, unknowingly, and quite willingly, let him.

Draco, on the other hand, was always behind one mask or the other. And in those moments where he ran from one to the next, in those moments where you could catch short, fleeting glimpses of the man behind it all…those were the moments to treasure and store in a pensive. They were rare, and far between.

Hermione's eyes flicked to the clock once again, and groaned. She threw off her blanket and sat up. There was never a battle Hermione shied away from, and she wouldn't start now.

And today _would _be a battle, that she was certain of.

There were two other things she was certain of.

On was the fact that _if _she loved him like she believed he did, then she needed more than this.

And secondly, if this was all he could give, then she would move past him. He would forever remain a lesson to her, a brief lovely part of her past – a passionate affair even, if she were in a particularly romantic mood – but the past. It would hurt, Hermione admitted, as she fixed up her uniform in the mirror.

She touched the reflection of her face. But she was stronger than this, better than this, and smarter than to let herself fall to pieces over a man who didn't care.

As she turned to left, she remembered she had forgotten something. Hermione turned around and picked up the box, dropping it into her schoolbag.

* * *

He had had that necklace for ages. He had bought it the moment anything resembling a relationship between him and Hermione started. Despite how happy he was with her, despite Alicia's words and actions, he had gone to the jewelers out of habit and fear, maybe even for assurance.

Fear, because before it had even started, she had begun changing him. He knew it. He felt it. And he had hated it.

Sometimes, in rare moments, he wished he were braver. Maybe, he very grudgingly admitted, if Potter were in his place, he would stand taller and parade Hermione around to show her off to everybody. Everyone else be damned.

That's what she deserved, he thought sullenly. And for that, and that alone, would he give the only ounce of respect for that foolish Gryffindor bravery.

In fleeting moments, it hurt him. To see both the hurt, and the accusations in her eyes when he pushed her away. He scoffed inwardly. Like it was easy for him.

It wasn't.

_He finally headed back to the head's common room, when, from the window in his room in the dungeons, he saw the moon high in the sky. _

_He left the dungeons, and headed to the common room. That was his plan at least. Yet somehow, he ended up outside the library. He simply had a feeling she would be there. He knew he shouldn't go in. He knew he should just turn back, and head to his room. It was better this way, if he didn't see her. Still, it was futile protesting. He couldn't resist. Even as he scanned the library couches, he knew she would be there. He had already braced himself as the guilt coursed through his body. Guilt for all that he had done to her, all that he had said about her, and what he planned to do._

_He averted his eyes as he tried to walk away. He had a plan. He would go back to their common roo, head straight to her room without looking at her, place it on her bed, and then go to sleep. By the time she saw it, he would be gone. That was the easiest way._

_He didn't know how long he stood in front of her, staring at her. He didn't know what he was doing either._

_Perhaps he was trying to draw in every detail of her, brand her in his thoughts and memories so as to never forget. Because he knew that after tonight, she would probably never look at him with anything but hatred again._

_No, he sighed. Hermione would forgive him eventually. Either because that was who she was, or as a means of revenge so that the guilt would gnaw at him from inside, out – until he was gone._

_He willed himself to walk away, but his body did the opposite. His hand reached out and swept the hair off her face, almost tenderly. Like he had done many times before._

_He bent down, and placed the softest kiss on her forehead, even as the box burned traitorously in his hands. _

Placing that box in her room was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

And he recalled his last thought before walking into her room.

_Saying goodbye – not to nya girl..no to anyone – had never hurt this much before._

* * *

Draco really didn't give him enough credit, Blaise surmised.

"Hey Crabbe, you hungry?" Blaised nudged the man beside him.

Crabbe grunted in annoyance, as he was trying, hopelessly, to build a house of cards. Then, after reconsidering, he answered in affirmative.

After some pointed staring, Blaise rolled his eyes. "Why don't," he said, rudely and sarcastically, " you go get something to eat?" He paused. "And take Goyle with you."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, shrugged, and got up.

Blaise waited for them to leave and shut the door before starting. "It's amazing that I can have a full conversation in front of you, and you're still off daydreaming in la la land." He simply shook his head when he got no response, and snapped his fingers in front of Draco's face. "Earth to Lovegood?"

"What?" Draco finally snapped, angry because he had been having a particularly good fantasy with Hermione.

"For weeks, you're never around. You disappear right after dinner, are practically a ghost on weekends…and now you're here, all day, everyday." He continued on quickly, seeing Draco open his mouth to retort. "The dungeons aren't _that _nice."

Draco quickly churned up a couple responses in his head, before settling on one. "I'm just sick of Granger, is all," he lied. "I just don't want to see her." Not a lie.

Blaise knew it too. "Right," he scoffed.

Draco picked up on this. "What, you don't believe me?" he challenged.

"I believe you. I believe you don't want to see her because you guys got into some kind of tiff. But sick of her? Not quite yet Malfoy. You haven't gotten her out of your system yet."

Draco started to protest. He even forced himself to come up with a few insults about her to add. To prove himself. But Blaise held up a hand.

"You're insults are half-hearted at best," Blaise sneered. He continued. "Don't deny it. You've been looking after her all day, first tentatively, then curiously."

Blaise waited patiently as Draco considered this.

Draco begrudgingly had to admit it was the truth. Granger just wasn't acting the way he had expected – namely, sad and distraught. He was also fully expecting anger and wrath.

She hadn't acted like she didn't care though. Instead, it was more like she wasn't taking him seriously.

"Yes," Draco conceded. "Continue, as you clearly have something else on your mind, " he allowed.

Not that Blaise was waiting for permission. "Look, I don't care what you're getting yourself into. But be careful. Not everyone's as ignorant and stupid as you think."

Draco nodded curtly. Both men understood it as a thanks. Blaise was looking out for him, Draco knew. Maybe it was time to talk to Hermione. He gulped.

As Draco got up to leave, Blaise couldn't help but quip. "Say hello to Granger for me."

But Draco was too busy to hear him. He was busy reminding himself that he had done what he had to, and he couldn't – _wouldn't –_ let himself change his mind.

He repeated this to himself, like a mantra, all the way back to the common room. He feared that he would finally give in. He was scared of her wrath, and even more scared of her pain. He didn't know if he could take either, as cowardly as it sounded.

Upon finding it abandoned, he sighed. Draco guessed he would have to put it off until tomorrow.

As he walked into his room, however, all thoughts left his mind. He was infinitely surprised to find the box sitting on his bed.

It was almost like back when they were playing games with each other. Almost.

But Draco knew better.

This wasn't a game anymore. Draco tried desperately to bring his mantra back to the forefront of his mind again, in vain.


End file.
